


Year 5 - Descent into Darkness

by Casazael



Series: The Dwarf Who Lived [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 83,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27571111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casazael/pseuds/Casazael
Summary: Following the events at the end of the last school year, Kíli was eager to return to Erebor to be reunited with his friends. This summer holiday in the Wizarding world would turn out to be a different one, however.
Relationships: Fíli/Kíli (Tolkien)
Series: The Dwarf Who Lived [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680766
Comments: 46
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the events at the end of the last school year, Kíli was eager to return to Erebor to be reunited with his friends. This summer holiday in the Wizarding world would turn out to be a different one, however.

_Breaking News: The Ministry Has Finally Come to Face Its Mistakes_

_During a much-anticipated press conference, Ministry for Magic, Mister Saruman White, has finally confirmed the speculations going around regarding the fate of Mister Azog Gundabad, the Head of the ancient and prominent Pureblood family and former board member of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_“We are here today to inform the British Wizarding public with great regret that Mister Azog Gundabad has been found guilty of the abduction and unlawful imprisonment of Mister Fíli Arken and the use of an Unforgivable, specifically the Imperius Curse, on a fellow Hogwarts student, contrary to Wizarding Law. In addition, Mister Gundabad has confessed to being responsible for the attack on Mister Fíli Arken and the release of the Basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets on several Hogwarts students. The decision, along with the sentence, has been unanimously made by the Wizengamot. Mister Azog Gundabad will serve a lifelong sentence in Azkaban without parole._

_While we deeply regret the actions of Mister Gundabad and their subsequent consequences, particularly to the victims and their families, we must applaud the Aurors, for the bravery and superior skills they have demonstrated in both the capture and subsequent conviction of Mister Gundabad. They have once again demonstrated why the Wizarding public can place their trust in the Ministry, even in the darkest times. We urge the public to remain calm in this distressing and difficult time. In the meantime, we offer our wholehearted support to anyone who may wish to seek help. The Ministry has the public interest at heart and will continue to ensure that our Wizarding world is safe and supportive to every single one of our citizens. Any inquiries can be directed to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”_

_Mister Gundabad, a long-suspected high-ranking Death Eater, had managed to convince Wizengamot of his innocence during the First Wizarding War by declaring himself under the influence of the Imperius Curse and thus not responsible for any of the atrocious acts he had committed._

_After he had been cleared of all charges, Mister Gundabad returned to his family business, which has flourished under his direction, though many of his opponents have insisted that Mister Gundabad has only achieved such a feat by using underhand techniques and sabotaging. His generous donations to the Ministry has long been recognised, which partially explains his recently acquired position in the prestigious wizarding school._

_His extensive involvement in various terrorist attacks directed at Hogwarts students, therefore, did not come as a complete surprise. The question is, how come the Ministry has done nothing about Mister Gundabad’s criminal tendencies, especially given his less than illustrious past? Should not the Ministry, especially given the Minister’s claim of having the public’s best interest at heart, pay closer attention to active members of society who have been accused, regardless of the final verdict, of being a Death Eater? Or has Mister Gundabad simply been able to buy his way out of trouble (his House Elf had previously taken the blame for the attacks on Mister Arken) and even into such important positions? Is this a hint that corruption at the Ministry is more than an unlikely possibility that the Ministry insists? Is Mister Gundabad’s imprisonment as reassuring as we have hoped? After all, Mister Gundabad, according to our reliable sources, has managed to incite a small-scale rebellion inside Azkaban where two guards abandoned their posts in the Wizarding prison to terrorise Hogwarts students during a Quidditch match. Can we trust the Ministry that Mister Gundabad will no longer post a threat to our society now? Can we trust the Ministry in anything nowadays?_

_(For a more detailed account of Mister Gundabad’s involvement in the First Wizarding War, turn to page 5.)_

Kíli put down the Quibbler and sighed. Fíli had insisted that he got the tabloid, run by none other than Luna Lovegood’s father since it was one of the very few alternative voices to the main Wizarding newspaper, Daily Prophet. While Kíli was not originally keen on the idea, for the Quibbler was known to publish sometimes odd other times downright ludicrous articles, he caved after knowing that he craved as much information from the Wizarding world as possible when he was in the orphanage. It turned out to be a good decision. Not only were the articles very entertaining, some more serious pieces certainly offered a different perspective from the Daily Prophet, who had just published an article on the same topic, lauding most effusively the Ministry’s contribution to bringing Azog to justice.

Even though Kíli was pleased that Azog’s sentence had finally been delivered, he could not help but voice the same doubts listed in the article. Just as Fíli had predicted, the Ministry had decided to use Azog’s case to promote its own agenda and public image, rather than admitting and owning their previous mistakes. The suggestion of corruption was also disconcerting. As the Quibbler said, could they really trust the Ministry?

More than a week had passed since Kíli’s return from Hogwarts. It was quite relaxing for Kíli to be away from the Wizarding world for a change and simply spend time with his friends. Most of them were already revising for their GCSEs next year, which meant that their free time was limited. Kíli had thus offered to help, both with chores in the orphanage and their schoolwork. It was, after all, quite entertaining to watch Seamus butcher Shakespeare.

While Kíli had O.W.L. at the end of his next year, he did not share the same stress of his fellow friends in the orphanage. Regardless of his O.W.L. results, unless he bombed it completely, which was unlikely since he was rather good in at least Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms, Kíli would be able to continue studying at Hogwarts for another two years before he had to worry about his future. His friends, however, had no such luxury. Most of them, bar a few truly academically gifted ones, would not be able to continue on to Sixth Form. Despite their much-improved food quality and general well-being, the orphanage was still short on cash and simply could not afford further education for all the orphans. Instead, they had to go and find themselves apprenticeships or jobs so they could start their career rather than continue to be dependent on the orphanage. It was, therefore, understandable that most of them were less carefree than they were before. It had also made Kíli realise how lucky he was, which he was extremely grateful for.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Madam McGonagall?” asked Kíli politely after he had finished his, Seamus’s, and Dean’s part of the summer cleaning. The matron looked around the room and gave him a rare smile. “No, Kíli. You have done more than enough already. Don’t let the boys rope you into something like this again though. They should pull their own weight. Now, why don’t you go have some rest? You need to recover before you leave here for Erebor.”

Kíli’s eyebrows shot up. Why would he need to recover for his trip to Erebor where he spent most of his time eating and having fun with his friends? Did Madam McGonagall know something he did not? “What do you…”

Madam McGonagall’s smile turned mysterious. “Oh, you’ll find out when you’re there.” She gave Kíli a long look, her face more serious now. “Do take care of yourself, my dear, will you?”

“I don’t under…”

“I still keep up correspondences with Mister Gandalf,” said Madam McGonagall. “He seems to think that your world is on the cusp of great destruction or continued peace.” She hesitated before grabbing Kíli’s hand and squeezed it gently in an uncharacteristically open gesture. “And I have a feeling that our time with you is coming to an end. I may not be a witch or even a rich Muggle with lots of resources or connection. But I hope you can not only survive but also thrive in your world because I know you have it in you. If I can help in any way, do not hesitate to contact me and I will do my best.”

Feeling his throat close up, Kíli could only nod in silence. In truth, he had felt the same way, which was why he insisted on coming back to the orphanage this summer. It was almost frightening, bidding farewell to the world he grew up in to enter into a world that he still felt, despite having spent the majority of the last four years of his life in, rather foreign and sometimes hostile. “I will, Madam McGonagall. Thank you for everything.”

When the time had finally come for Kíli to go to Erebor, he was surprised to find Dwalin at the doorstep of the orphanage. Kíli had previously volunteered to go to Erebor by himself as he did before. Both Thorin and Dís, however, insisted that he wait at the orphanage until someone could come and pick him up. While Kíli had been indignant at this unnecessary coddling before, the conversation with Madam McGonagall had shed some new light into the reasoning behind Thorin and Dís’s decision. The only thing he did not expect was to see the beaming face of Dwalin, though it was a very pleasant surprise.

“Professor Dwalin!” Kíli cried with delight before throwing himself into Dwalin’s open arms. “I wasn’t expecting you!”

“Morning, laddie.” Dwalin laughed and patted Kíli heavily on the back. “Hope yeh are glad to see the hide of me.”

Kíli grinned. “Of course! I always am! But I honestly thought Mrs Arken or Fíli would…”

“As much as Fíli’s a good laddie, he’s not of age and thus too young to come and pick yeh up,” smiled Dwalin. “Dís wanted to come but she’s currently tied up. Besides, yeh won’t mind spending some time with an old bugger like me, do yeh?”

“Not at all! I’d love to!” And it was the honest truth. Kíli had missed Dwalin’s protective yet cheerful presence. He had always felt safe and perfectly at ease whenever Dwalin was around.

“Have yeh ever Side-Along Apparated before, laddie?” asked Dwalin good-naturedly.

The image of the aftermath of his last Side-Along Apparation made Kíli grimace. Dwalin chortled. “I take that as a yes then, laddie. No worries, yeh’ll get the hang of it soon enough.”

“Why do wizards Apparate when it’s so horrible?” Kíli mumbled. He simply could not imagine puking every time after Apparating. It could hardly be productive, could it?

“It gets better. Besides, it’s not that bad when yeh do it yerself.” Dwalin grabbed Kíli’s hand firmly. “Ready, laddie?”

Bracing himself for the darkness and the tight squeeze, Kíli felt a bit more prepared this time. It only lasted a couple of seconds and Kíli had luckily managed to keep the contents of his stomach, despite the thousand writhing snakes inside.

The first thing that entered Kíli’s sight, once his equilibrium had returned, was Fíli, who was reading in his sitting room. Rushing towards Kíli, he threw his arms around Kíli and cried, “You’re here! How’s your summer been? Your trip here okay?”

Kíli laughed. “I’m fine. The trip’s fine. I think I’m getting more used to Side-Along Apparation. Well, I didn’t get sick this time.”

“You’re getting used to it.” Fíli smiled. “Wait until you can Apparate yourself. It’s so much better and so quick. At least that’s what I’ve heard.” He turned to Dwalin. “I thought you’d spend more time taking Kíli here, knowing, you know…”

Dwalin shrugged. “All things considered, I thought it’s better we get to Erebor as quickly as possible so we can start getting ready. It takes a long time to pack after all.”

“What are you…” Kíli was now seriously confused. There was definitely something going on that he had absolutely no idea about. Dwalin cut him off. “I’ll leave yeh with Fíli, who can fill yeh in on everything. I better be off, laddie. I want to go over the plan one more time with Thorin.”

Once Dwalin was gone, Kíli turned to Fíli. “Okay. So what on earth has been going on? Why do I need to pack?”

Fíli was beaming so widely that Kíli seriously wondered if that hurt his mouth. “Because you’re going on a trip! Remember what uncle said when you were here last summer? He’s going to arrange the trip to the Misty Mountains for you.”

“You’re joking!” Kíli felt his mind going blank for a second because he simply could not believe it. “He’s going to take me to the Misty Mountains?”

“Not him,” Fíli sniggered. “Or you may not return in time for the new term. He’s also exceedingly busy this summer. Professor Dwalin’s going to take you.”

So that explained everything. Kíli was frankly a bit relieved. As much as he admired Thorin and that their relationship had improved, Kíli thought a month-long trip with Thorin where they would constantly get lost was pushing it a bit. Dwalin, on the other hand, would be the perfect guide and companion for his trip. Not only was he a great warrior and hence perfectly competent in defending them should any trouble arise, but Dwalin was also a fun character to spend time with during such a trip, which most likely would not take too long either. “That’s great. I honestly can’t wait! When are we leaving?”

“In less than a week, I think,” said Fíli. “The trip usually takes a little more than three weeks, unless you’re uncle, of course. Professor Dwalin has been to the Misty Mountains countless times so he knows his way. He and uncle have formed a preliminary plan but he wants to go over it again, once uncle has time.”

“Why’s your uncle so busy this summer?” Kíli asked. “I thought he’d be a bit more relaxed now that Azog’s locked up. I mean, I know that Professor Gandalf is worried about the Dark powers rising but surely it’s not as bad with their chief lieutenant gone. Or is he still searching for the Arkenstone?”

“I don’t think so.” Fíli shook his head. “I don’t think he has the time. He might have given up too. It’s been so long and he has failed so many times.”

“Then what…”

“Actually, with Azog and his Death Eater minions captured and put into Azkaban, it leaves quite a few positions in the Ministry open, not to mention the Hogwarts governor,” explained Fíli. “Uncle has been working all summer to make sure that no Dark wizards would be placed in those positions. Given the complicated relationship between Professor Gandalf and the Minister, Professor Gandalf has to stay behind the scene. Lady Galadriel, Professor Elrond, and uncle have, therefore, been working all summer on that. Thranduil Greenleaf did not help matters either since he’s been trying to place his man into the Ministry and he’s not exactly on our side.”

Kíli had to work his brain hard to keep up with Fíli’s explanations. Politics was never his forte. “So, Professor Gandalf wants to infiltrate the Ministry?”

Fíli grimaced. “Well, when you put it like that. The point is, we need to have trustworthy and reliable wizards in the Ministry, who will not be corrupt or easily swayed so that they can be counted on to stand up to the Dark side if they ever come back. Have you read the article in the Quibbler early? The Ministry…”

“Is corrupt and only concerned about their image rather than the truth. Yeah, I know that. So what has Legolas’s dad got to do with anything?”

“Apparently, he’s no longer satisfied with being a rich pureblood aristocrat.” Fíli pursed his lips. “His inaction during the Last Wizarding War helped him preserve his money, family, and friends but did little to allow him to expand his influence and power. Now Thranduil seems to think that it’s time for him to shine.”

“Which side is he on then?”

“Thranduil Greenleaf will not be on anyone’s side but his own,” snorted Fíli. “That’s why he’s working with the Ministry rather than any one of us. His people will not take action if the Dark rises again, mark my words.”

Dís’s arrival put an end to this somewhat disheartening discussion. “Kíli! You’ve made it!” Dís exclaimed as she strode across the room to engulf Kíli in her embrace. Blushing furiously, Kíli allowed himself a moment of indulgence in Dís’s motherly love. He was already taller than she was yet he would always feel like a child in front of her. “How’s your journey? Everything okay? Are you hungry? Have you eaten?”

“I’m fine, Mrs Arken,” beamed Kíli, “thank you for asking.”

Dís waved her hand airily. “How many times do I have to tell you not to stand on ceremony! Come, you must be a bit peckish after your trip. We still have some pastries left from breakfast. How about a nice cuppa to go along with it?”

Unable, though he did not fight very hard, to refuse Dís’s hospitality, Kíli followed her. Once they were seated at the table, Dís poured a steaming cup of tea for Kíli before asking, “Has Fíli told you about the exciting news for this summer?”

In his eagerness to reply, Kíli swallowed a whole mouthful of scorching hot tea, which instantly brought him to tears. “Ye… yes, Mrs Arken,” gasped Kíli. Next to him, Fíli rolled his eyes and muttered a spell under his breath. Kíli’s mouth recovered immediately.

“Wonderful!” Dís beamed. “I’m so glad my brother’s been able to arrange it. It’s not proper for you to miss out on such an important step of your journey into adulthood. Thorin would have taken you himself had he not been so busy. But Dwalin is a wonderful choice, not to mention a very eager one. He hasn’t got anyone in his family that needs to go on this trip so he’s been feeling kind of missing out.”

“So Professor Dwalin doesn’t have a nephew or something?” Kíli knew Dwalin had no children of his own but he did not realise that his professor had such a small family.

Dís shook her head, the jubilant look on her face gone. “Dwalin and Balin are the only two of their family left. Neither have children so. I have tried to set him up with someone before but Dwalin had always refused. In the end, I just gave up. He seems content enough on his own and has no desire to start a family.”

This almost made Kíli feel guilty because he was fairly certain that his own mother was Dwalin’s One from the way Dwalin had described her. His professor had apparently loved her so deeply that he refused to find someone even after her death. Kíli simply could not imagine living such a solitary life where the love of your life was not only someone else’s wife but also brutally murdered, with the murderers still at large. Perhaps that was why he had always found Dwalin’s company so comforting. He must have recognised the same loneliness in his professor.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After multiple discussions between Dwalin and Thorin, the start time of the trip had finally been set to be two days later, which commenced the hectic two days of packing and preparation. This was the first time in Kíli’s numerous visits to Erebor that he had completely ignored the place. The anticipation of the trip simply overshadowed everything else.

The night before his departure, Kíli could barely sleep. Both excitement and anxiety occupied his mind in equal measure. Despite going to bed at an early hour, Kíli kept tossing and turning until he finally gave up. Creeping up quietly across his room, Kíli tiptoed and knocked softly on Fíli’s door.

When Fíli answered the door, he could barely open his eyes as he rubbed them sleepily and just managed to stifle a yawn. “What’s up, Kíli?”

“I…” Now Kíli felt incredibly guilty and stupid for waking Fíli up for something so trivial. “Nothing really. I’m sorry. I’ll just…”

Fíli smiled. “Of course there’s something, Kíli. Come on in.” He opened the door wider to allow Kíli in. Hesitating for a moment, Kíli finally caved to his emotions and sneaked into Fíli’s room.

“So,” Fíli fought a yawn, a bit harder this time, “do you want to talk about it? Maybe over a cup of tea?”

“No,” said Kíli quickly. He could not imagine waking anyone else up at such an ungodly hour. “I just,” he could feel his face heating up rapidly, “can I get in bed with you? It might help me sleep.”

If Fíli was astonished by this request, he did not betray his emotions on his face. Instead, he simply nodded and climbed back to his four-poster bed. Kíli followed suit and crept under the duvet, scooping closer to Fíli until their arms almost touched. Perhaps it was the presence of another human, or perhaps it was Fíli’s unique charm, but Kíli felt more grounded almost immediately.

“You alright now?” whispered Fíli in a soft voice. Kíli nodded, before realising that Fíli probably could not see him in the darkness. “Yeah, I’m much better now. Sorry about that. I just couldn’t sleep.”

Fíli’s soft laugh filled Kíli’s heart with warmth. “I understand. I felt the same way before my trip last year. Just the idea of a long trip is exciting enough, not to mention one to the Misty Mountains. It’s a trip of a lifetime, trust me.”

Kíli could not help but smile. If he, a half Dwarf with bare minimum knowledge of the Dwarven history, was excited about the trip, he could only imagine what it meant for a Dwarf heir like Fíli. It was practically his birthright. But he was also anxious. “Didn’t your uncle say the place was occupied by Orcs? Do you think we’ll be…”

“You’ll be fine!” said Fíli firmly before Kíli could finish his question of self-doubt. “You’re a good wizard, as you have demonstrated in May. And you’ve seen real combat. Besides, Professor Dwalin will never let anything happen to you. He’s perhaps even a better and certainly fiercer warrior than uncle. With Azog and his Death Eater pals in Azkaban, there’s literally nothing to worry about.”

“Right.” Feeling much better now, Kíli turned his head on the pillow to face Fíli. Even though the room was dark, the moonlight through the window was just bright enough to show Fíli’s face, surrounded by his mane of blond hair. Kíli felt his heart skip a beat. He knew that objectively, Fíli was and always had been considered a very attractive wizard, and not just by Dwarves. With his thick blond hair, clear blue eyes, straight nose, angular face, and a strong yet not overly stout build, Fíli was not only a heartthrob amongst Dwarf witches but had captured the heart of quite a few Men witches too. Even the Elves, who were known for their almost narcissistic standard of beauty, had admitted that Fíli was fairly easy on the eyes. Gimli had even jokingly forbidden Fíli to appear anywhere within sight when he was on a date. Despite all this, Kíli had never really noticed Fíli’s looks until now.

“Are you okay?” Fíli’s concerned voice dragged Kíli back to reality. Swallowing hard, he said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, absolutely.”

Fíli raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Kíli turned his head so he was staring at the canopy of Fíli’s four-poster bed rather than Fíli himself. He was immensely grateful that the room was dark enough for he was sure Fíli would have seen his crimson cheek otherwise. What on earth was wrong with him? Fíli was his best friend, had been for more than four years. Why would he stare and blush at his best friend? This made no sense at all!

“Good night, Kíli. Sweet dreams.” Fíli’s voice was sleepy.

“Night,” Kíli mumbled. When he turned again, his hand accidentally touched Fíli, which made him want to jump and melt at the same time. Groaning inwardly, Kíli forced himself to get some sleep. He needed to be fresh and ready for the next day.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Seconds later, or so it seemed, Kíli was woken by the gentle hands of Dís. “Time to get up, Kíli. Dwalin’s already here.

As exhausted as he was, years of living in the orphanage had trained Kíli to get out of bed the moment he was woken up so well that it was almost reflex. Stumbling out of bed with his eyes barely open, Kíli made a beeline towards the ensuite bathroom in Fíli’s room. It took him longer to get ready because Kíli wanted to make sure that he looked his best for this trip. He even attempted to braid his hair, which turned out to be quite a disaster. Even after four years living amongst Dwarves, Kíli’s hair simply refused to cooperate. Sighing, Kíli tried his best to make himself look as presentable as possible.

“There yeh are, Kíli.” Dwalin’s booming voice sounded almost unnatural at this ungodly hour. “Yeh are looking smart, laddie. But what’s up with yer hair?”

“Er…” Kíli’s embarrassment was saved by Dís, who rushed him to the dining table laden with food. “No need to worry, my dear. Why don’t you tuck into breakfast while I braid your hair? It’ll be faster that way.”

A moment later, Fíli and Thorin walked into the dining room, both impeccably dressed. This was the first time that Kíli had seen Thorin since the end of last school year and his hair resembled a bird’s nest. Thorin’s eyebrow raised but he was kind enough not to comment. “How are you, Kíli? I must apologise for my lack of hospitality. My rather hectic schedule has prevented me from fulfilling my host responsibilities, for which I must ask for your forgiveness.”

Fighting the urge to fidget - his hair would be truly irredeemable then - Kíli said hastily, “Please, Professor Thorin. You’ve been very busy and I understand. Fíli and Mrs Arken have been more than kind and welcoming. In fact, I should thank you for arranging this trip for me.”

A ghost of a smile flitted across Thorin’s face. “It is part of the Dwarven tradition that you should not miss as it is part of your heritage. I am glad to be of assistance. I must apologise again for my scheduling conflicts. I have intended to take you on the journey myself but have been advised against it.” Kíli had to fight a smile. “But I am sure Dwalin will take good care of you.”

“No need to worry, old friend.” Dwalin patted Thorin genially on the shoulder. “Kíli’s in safe hands now and I’d never let anything happen to him!”

“There!” said Dís triumphantly. Moving in front of Kíli, she smiled with satisfaction before conjuring a mirror out of thin air. “Here, don’t you look smart and proper now, dear!”

Taking the mirror from Dís, Kíli held it up to inspect her handiwork from different angles. He must admit that Fíli’s mother had done wonders to his unruly hair. They were neatly braided with silvery strands woven in, giving them a shiny look. It complemented the rest of his clothes well and for the first time, despite his unfortunate lack of facial hair, Kíli felt all grown up. “Thank you so much, Mrs Arken. It looks wonderful.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” Dís gave her a warm motherly smile. “We all want you looking your best. Now, you’ve got everything ready. Take your time with breakfast. You don’t want to set out on an empty stomach.”

Following Dís’s advice, Kíli tucked into his breakfast. Even though he had no idea what Dwalin had packed for the trip or what their itinerary was, he doubted that such decadent breakfast freshly out of the kitchen would be readily available for the next three weeks. Halfway through the meal, Kíli was greeted with two additional guests.

“Finally it’s your turn, mate! About time!” Gimli’s boisterous voices made Kíli grin.

“Normally people just say hello,” said Kíli with a fond roll of his eyes. “You really should spend more time with normal humans rather than Professor Dáin’s beasts.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Gimli with a laugh. “Ready for the big adventure? You better eat your fill now. Who knows what your next meal will be like. Could be some rats.”

“Gimli!” said Ori, who had trailed behind Gimli, in a reproachful tone. “Don’t scare Kíli!” He turned to Kíli with such an exuberant look on his face that Kíli raised an eyebrow. “You must be beyond excited about your trip! I am!”

Kíli’s eyes widened. “You’re coming with us? That’s won…”

“Oh no,” Ori smiled. “I’m going with Nori in a couple of days. Dori did want us to go with you. I think he still doesn’t trust Nori. But Nori insists that this needs to be done with just the two of us. After all, the trip is meant as a test too, to see if we can survive in the wild with our magic. But we may bump into each other. Who knows?”

“That would be wonderful!” If Kíli thought he could not get more excited about the trip, he had just been proven wrong. The prospect of seeing Ori and Nori somewhere down the road only added to the appeal of the journey.

Once breakfast was cleared, Dwalin unfolded a large map that was tinged with yellow and slightly frayed at the edges. Kíli could not help but touch the soft material. It seemed to have hundreds of years of history embedded in it.

“This is the route we’re taking, laddie.” Dwalin pointed to a marked route that led them from London to the Misty Mountains. Kíli bent down to take a closer look. The first part of the journey looked easy enough as it followed mostly populated civilisations. The second part, however, seemed to take them across the wilderness through forests and mountains. “It’s the fastest one and quite manageable. Have yeh ever camped before?”

Kíli doubted that his handful of overnight camping trips with the orphanage counted. In any case, he did not want to raise Dwalin’s expectations only to have his favourite professor find out that he was pants at outdoor survival later. “Not really. I’ve spent overnight in a tent a couple of times but that was it. I don’t know how to set up a tent, gather woods, start a fire, things like that. But”, he added quickly because he did not want to look completely useless, “I don’t mind sleeping in a sleeping bag on the ground.”

To his surprise, Dwalin did not seem upset or concerned about it. Instead, he simply laughed. “Camping in the wizarding world is very different from Muggle ones, laddie. Yeh certainly don’t need to worry about sleeping on the ground. We’ve got magic for that sort of problem. Yeh’ll see when we set up the tent tomorrow night.”

“We’re camping tomorrow?” Kíli had thought they would stay in hostels when they were travelling through a city.

“Of course. Magical accommodations aren’t exactly easy to find. Besides, how else could yeh practice yer magic when yeh stay somewhere with everything done for yeh?”

This was more complicated than he thought. Kíli was unsure what to expect now. Sensing his discomfort, Fíli said bracingly, “It will be fine, Kíli. I’ve done it before and it was such a great adventure. You’ll learn more about yourself and your magic using it in the real world than you’ll ever do by simply revising for an exam in Hogwarts. It will be an experience of a lifetime. Trust me!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip to the Misty Mountains was exactly what Kíli needed.

After a lengthy farewell, during which Dís almost shed a couple of tears, Kíli left the familiar comfort of Erebor to venture into the unknown with Dwalin. He could not help but notice the rucksack that Dwalin carried was exceedingly small, too small to carry enough provisions, let alone a tent, for their trip.

“Professor Dwa…” 

Dwalin interrupted him before Kíli could even start his question. “No need to be so formal with me now, laddie. We’re not in Hogwarts anymore so yeh can just call me Dwalin.”

Had the request come from Thorin, Kíli would have dismissed it immediately. As much as he respected and admired Thorin, Kíli simply could not imagine getting familiar with his Potions Master. Dwalin, on the other hand, made Kíli feel much more relaxed so he just grinned. “Alright. Thanks, Dwalin.”

“Here’s my lad.” Dwalin ruffled Kíli’s hair affectionately, nearly destroying the braids Dís had spent such a long time cultivating. “What was yer question again?”

“Oh, right. Your rucksack, Dwalin. It’s a bit, well…”

“Small?” Dwalin laughed. “No need to worry, laddie. I haven’t gone completely senile. It’s got everything we need in it. An Undetectable Extension Charm and a Feather-Light charm make it much easier to carry it around.”

Kíli’s curiosity piqued immediately. He knew about the Feather-Light Charm but he had never heard of the Undetectable Extension Charm. “Can you teach me please? It’ll be awfully handy to know.”

“Of course I will, laddie. This is what this trip is for, teaching yeh practical spells that yeh need in everyday life and tricky situations. I’ll teach yeh once we stop for lunch. Shouldn’t take too long.”

True to his words, Dwalin stopped for lunch once he had found a secluded area in a park. Looking around surreptitiously, Dwalin took out his wand and muttered several spells. Kíli felt as if something had washed over him, which made him even more curious what spells Dwalin had in his arsenal.

“These are just some protective wards, along with a Muggle repelling charm,” explained Dwalin. “I’ll teach yeh after we’ve got some food. Now, yeh know the Summoning Charm. So why don’t yeh summon today’s lunch.”

The Summoning Charm presented no challenge to Kíli, though he could not help but be amazed to see a large bag of food, much larger than the outward appearance of the small rucksack, zooming out the rucksack towards them. Dwalin laughed at the look on Kíli’s face. “Go on, laddie. Stick yer hand in and feel the space.”

Kíli nearly gasped when his hand could not reach the bottom of the rucksack. He now understood the need for the Summoning Charm. How much did Dwalin pack?

To Kíli’s surprise again, lunch was not only abundant but deliciously warm and fresh. According to Dwalin, it was prepared by Dís and had been placed under a Stasis Charm to keep it in its original state indefinitely. “Dís has prepared several days’ worth of food. She could get us enough food to last us the whole trip but the point of the journey is to allow yeh to practice yer magic. So we’ll go hunting and foraging once we reach the forest. I’ll teach yeh how, as well as how to cook using magic and how to apply the Stasis Charm.” 

Kíli nodded eagerly. Strangely enough, these domestic charms had never been taught in Hogwarts but he could see how they would be immensely useful. The only one prospect he was not looking forward to was hunting. He had never done it and was not sure how he would like killing innocent animals for food. “Do we have to go hunting though? Can't we just conjure some food using magic?”

“Yeh can’t, laddie,” Dwalin said between mouthfuls of beef wellingtons. “Food is one of the five principal exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. Yeh cannot simply conjure food out of thin air or transfigure something else into food. Yeh have to procure it the normal way.”

After a rather lengthy but extremely educational lunch, Kíli helped Dwalin pack up, which was made a lot easier thanks to the spells Dwalin had taught him. Even though the trip had just started, Kíli was already loving it. His time in Hogwarts never required so much wand-waving because most of the objects in the castle had already been enchanted to make their lives easier and more fun. Surviving in the Muggle world, however, proved a much more fun challenge for his magic. Kíli’s only concern was that he could never go back to live the Muggle way now that he knew how convenient magic made life to be.

The afternoon passed in a similar fashion. Dwalin was clearly used to trekking long distances for he betrayed no sign of fatigue or pain even after 5 hours of almost non-stop walking. Kíli, on the other hand, was struggling. Even though he prided himself on the physical stamina that he had gained from growing up in a Muggle orphanage where chores were almost never-ending and later Quidditch practices at Hogwarts, Kíli still found this incessant hiking rather painful. He greatly enjoyed the conversations he had shared with Dwalin but it had reached a point where his physical ailment overshadowed everything.

“I think we should call it a day now,” said Dwalin. They had almost made it out of Barton Hills, which was an ideal place to set up the tent, especially given the time of the day. Kíli nodded only too eagerly. His feet were protesting so loudly that he was sure he had acquired some blisters. As much as he would love to simply lie down and never get up again, Kíli did not wish to appear to be a burden. So he dutifully Summoned the tent out of Dwalin’s rucksack only to be left pondering how this unremarkable-looking thing could house both of them comfortably tonight.

Dwalin seemed to sense Kíli’s doubt for he laughed. “No need to worry, laddie. We’ll get the tent set up in no time and then yeh’ll see. Now, if you could fix this end to the ground.”

It only took them 10 minutes to set up the tent, which still seemed rather small from the outside. Kíli had to duck his head to get inside, which had shocked him into silence.

The inside of the tent was as spacious as a posh two-bedroom flat and just as fully-equipped. The kitchen was as big as Kíli’s room in the orphanage. Both bedrooms had an ensuite bathroom each that came with a bath. The four-poster bed inside looked almost as inviting as the one in Erebor while the sitting room was brightly-lit with a cosy fireplace. Kíli simply could not believe his eyes.

“Does this meet yer standard?” Dwalin joked at the dumbfounded look on Kíli’s face.

“This is… I don’t… How?” Kíli found it quite hard to properly express himself.

Dwalin grinned. “Magic can do a lot of things, laddie. Most of the tents in the Wizarding world are like this. Nothing fancy on the outside so yeh can take it anywhere without the fear of arousing suspicions of Muggles. But inside is a different story. Yeh can make it as ostentatious as yeh want. Some wizards such as Thranduil like to brag about their wealth so they make their tent virtually a moving palace, both inside and outside. They wouldn’t worry about the breach of the International Statute of Secrecy because they would never deign to go anywhere near Muggles. But others like Thorin and Dís prefer a more practical approach. That’s why I borrowed their tent. It’s fully functional without being too extravagant.”

Kíli bit down the comment that the inside of this tent would be considered extravagant by most, especially for a temporary home when camping. But he supposed that the power of magic had made wizards used to this kind of extra luxury. “It looks wonderful! Shall we cook something for dinner?”

“Aye.” Dwalin agreed with a shrewd look on his face. “But before I let yeh do that, how’s yer feet?”

Wincing slightly, Kíli realised that he could not hide his injury from Dwalin any longer. “They hurt pretty bad. I might have some blisters on my feet.”

Dwalin chuckled, which Kíli thought was rather insensitive. “I’ve figured as much, laddie. It happens to everybody. Now, let’s take a look and see how bad it is.”

Taking off his hiking boots gingerly, Kíli was greeted with several blisters on his feet. Luckily they were still intact. Dwalin nodded with satisfaction too. “This is much better than I thought. From what I heard, most of the lads got blood all over their feet after the first day. Yeh must have had some hiking experience, Kíli.”

Kíli could not help but feel the corners of his mouth turn up. He had been extremely nervous that he would not live up to the standard of a young Dwarf on a trip like this. It was therefore quite a relief to hear that he was doing quite well. “Thanks. I reckon all the running around in the orphanage helped. Some plasters should fix…”

Dwalin scoffed. “Don’t be daft. We’ve got spells for things like this. Here, try this one.”

After a couple of failed attempts - one of Kíli’s blisters had swelled at such an alarming rate that it was the size of football before Dwalin could contain it - Kíli had finally managed the healing spell and was applying it energetically to all his blisters. Now that he knew his physical state would no longer hinder the activities of the next day, Kíli felt much more at ease.

Dinner was a nice affair. With easy access to a full kitchen, Kíli was able to heat the food Dís had prepared using the Bluebell Flames he had produced. After a whole day of hard work, Kíli was famished. He, therefore, did not utter a word until a good 10 minutes into the meal, when he finally felt more like a human than a zombie craving flesh.

“Hard day, huh?” Dwalin’s smile was almost teasing. Kíli blushed. “It was a bit harder than I thought.”

Dwalin snorted. “Yeh won’t be the first, laddie. Most of the Dwarf lads are more than a bit spoilt nowadays and thus have a much harder time than you did today. Yeh can see why such a trip is necessary. Three weeks aren’t terribly long but are usually enough to open up their minds a bit.”

Three weeks now sounded quite long to Kíli, even though knowing the distance they had to cover, it did not seem that adequate. “Will three weeks be enough? The Misty Mountains are in the Scotland Highlands, aren’t they?”

“Aye.” Dwalin nodded. “It should be enough if we hike 8 hours a day.”

It did not sound like a lot but Kíli knew that he would not be able to sustain this level of activities for three weeks straight with no break. Dwalin had sensed Kíli’s hesitation because he smiled. “Yeh’ll manage, laddie. It will be taxing but I know yeh are tough. Worst case scenario, we’ve got potions to pick yeh up, as long as we make them.”

Knowing his potion-making ability, Kíli was not exactly reassured but he knew that Dwalin would help and teach him. Now that he was fairly certain of the plan, another question struck him. “This trip is only for Dwarf wizards, isn’t it? Dwarf witches don’t do this, do they?”

Dwalin shook his head. “Of course not. We’d never let our lasses out in the wild without proper protection. Not to mention that it’s not proper for lasses this age to go about their business without a chaperon.”

Kíli nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. “Chaperon?” Surely Dwalin could not be serious.

Apparently not. “Aye, without a chaperon, who’s there to protect the lass’s honour?”

“Er, couldn’t the witch do that herself?” Kíli found it hard to accept this archaic view on the fairer sex, having grown up in the modern Muggle society where feminism was prevalent. Madam McGonagall, who was a force to be reckoned with, had not run the orphanage successfully against all odds for more than 10 years by being demure and proper. Ginny Weasley, on the other hand, had got a mean right hook that could knock him over in a second.

Dwalin smiled. “Yer mum said the same thing when I suggested that she should not go out without a male protector and a female chaperon. That’s what most Dwarf lasses do, yeh know. It’s part of our tradition because the number of lasses is so small that we protect them at all costs. Imagine my shock when I found out that it’s not the case in the Muggle world.” The look on Dwalin’s face was pure nostalgia. “When I expressed doubt on yer mum’s ability to protect herself, she had taken to some very hands-on demonstration to prove me quite wrong.”

Kíli beamed. One of the reasons why he loved Dwalin’s company so much was that he got golden opportunities like this to learn more about his parents, particularly his mum. Out of his parents’ close friends, Kíli did not feel comfortable enough to ask Thorin, especially given his rather tumultuous relationship with Kíli’s father. Dís, of course, was more than glad to talk to Kíli about his parents but with Dís in Erebor, such opportunities were hard to come by. “I never know my mum was that feisty.”

“Oh, she’s a feisty one alright!” Dwalin laughed. “She doesn’t look it but she’s got more balls than all of us combined. She’s not an Auror for nothing. Most of us expected her to be a Healer but she had surprised us all. And a bloody good one she was, one of the best. It took a dozen of those bastards to…” His voice trailed off, the light in his eyes suddenly dimmed and the eyebrows knitted together.

Kíli fidgeted on his seat. There was one reason for him not to bring up his mum in Dwalin’s presence. If Kíli’s suspicions were correct, he was not the only one who lost someone they loved the night his parents were murdered. Dwalin had lost his One forever. Kíli simply could not imagine what it felt like, first to witness your One marrying someone else, only to face her death by murder in the most brutal fashion. Kíli could only wish that his quest for his One would be much smoother.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first week of the journey passed almost like a blur. Thanks to Dwalin’s Potion kits and ingredients, Kíli had finally managed to brew an Invigoration Draught under Dwalin’s patient tutelage. Kíli could not imagine covering such a long distance without the help of the potion. As a result, his magical ability, particularly in the practical realm, had increased drastically, which made all the challenges and hardships they had encountered well worth it. Kíli was now adept at simple healing spells, domestic charms, not to mention his much improved potion-making skills.

As the trip went on, however, their food supplies had been greatly depleted. The increased physical demands meant that Kíli’s appetite had skyrocketed to almost rival that of a proper Dwarf. Soon they were faced with the challenge of sourcing their food.

“We’ve got to hunt, laddie,” said Dwalin with a finality that made Kíli grimace. He was not particularly looking forward to that experience. As much as he would like to have food for the rest of the journey, Kíli had no wish to capture and kill some poor animals. Yet he understood the necessity of Dwalin’s request. So he gritted his teeth and nodded. “What can I do to help?”

“Stunning spell works just fine. I’ll take care of the rest.” Dwalin extracted his wand from his robes. Kíli followed suit. Stunning did not seem that bad. It would be good for target practice too since aiming for a fast-moving animal was no small feat.

Once they had gathered enough stunned animals - Kíli managed to capture quite a few - Dwalin taught Kíli how to recognise some of the magical herbs in the forest that could be used to enhance both the flavour and the nutrients of their food, which Kíli found rather fascinating. “Do Muggles know the properties of these plants?”

Dwalin snorted, “Muggles can’t see them because most of these magical plants have a self-preservation mechanism that allows them to hide themselves from Muggles. It doesn’t work in front of wizards of course but Muggles won’t touch them. Can you imagine what would happen if Muggles know of their magical properties? There would be none of these plants left.”

Even though Kíli knew Dwalin did not mean it, he could not help but wonder if Dwalin felt superior to Muggles subconsciously. This was such a common occurrence amongst Pureblood wizards that Kíli honestly would not put it past Dwalin, as much as he loved his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. He was sure that Dwalin was not doing it intentionally, yet the bias was so deeply entrenched in the wizard’s psyche that it was impossible to root out completely. The ironic part was that Kíli found the wizarding society incredibly backwards. Some of their practices were positively medieval. While the Muggles had already moved forward, the wizarding world had resolutely refused to change, citing the need to preserve tradition. Now more than ever, Kíli could understand what Fíli meant when he said that Kíli had an advantage because he had grown up with both worlds. Now that he had experienced both, Kíli made a promise to himself. He would never be assimilated to the extent that he would agree with those archaic values and views. He would be his own person, the best of both worlds.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time they had reached the Misty Mountains, it had been nearly three weeks since they left Erebor. The weather leading up had been wet and cloudy, making the trip even harder. On the day they had arrived, however, the sky had cleared, affording Kíli the breathtaking view of the Misty Mountains, standing tall and majestic in front of him.

“Wow.” Kíli could hardly believe his eyes. Admittedly his travel experiences had been rather limited. Yet he had never seen a sight so sublime. It was so tall that the top of the mountain was still covered in snow while the peak was even hidden above the swirling cloud. There was a stark line that divided the top and bottom part of the mountain. The top was completely barren and devoid of life whereas the bottom was covered with lush green foliage. 

Dwalin beamed. “I know, laddie! It takes yer breath away every time yeh set eyes on it. It’s even more ethereal on a misty day, hence the name.” He could hardly keep the pride and emotion out of his voice. “And this magical place is our ancestral home, our birthright, our treasure stolen from us.” Wiping a tear surreptitiously, Dwalin’s face turned fierce and determined. “But we will reclaim it, just like we did Erebor. We Dwarves might be oppressed; we might have lost the battle; but we never surrender, even if it costs our lives.”

“Just like it did my dad.” Kíli could not help but mutter.

“Aye.” Dwalin nodded solemnly. “There are sacrifices that need to be made in every war against evil. It’s people like yer dad that make sure we stand a chance against the Dark, despite all the odds against us. There are some things that are bigger than yerself, that are worth fighting for, worth dying for. We Dwarves have always been the last one standing against the enemies, even when everyone else has abandoned the cause. We may be stubborn gits but we don’t yield nor are we tempted to forgo our beliefs. Yer parents were fine examples of that. They died a hero’s death. They have been true Dwarves until the very end.”

For the first time in his life, Kíli felt a connection with his Dwarven root. He had almost resisted it until this point because it was a culture that he considered antiquated and insular. Yet now he felt the swell of pride in knowing that he was part of these proud and brave people, who were loyal to a fault. He now understood why his mother fell for his father and married him despite her apparent misgivings about some of the Dwarven cultural practices.

For the next several days, Kíli followed Dwalin around deep into the Misty Mountains. They had to be careful since the place was now inhabited by Orcs. Their exploration was hence limited to the deserted and dilapidated part that even the Orcs did not deign to reside in. Almost everything was broken and covered in dust and cobwebs. Yet every now and then, a glimmer from pieces of precious stone shone through the dust and decay. It pained Kíli to see the vestiges of the place’s former glory as Dwalin recounted stories of the illustrious past. If this affected him so, he could only imagine what it meant for Dwalin to see his ancestral home reduced to such a state, abandoned and infested with Orcs.

“Are there any concrete plans to reclaim the Misty Mountains?” Kíli asked after they had settled in their tent one evening.

Dwalin did not immediately answer. Instead, he stroked his beard slowly and seemed to ponder his words carefully. “There have been talks amongst Dwarves, especially now.” By now, Kíli understood it to mean now that Azog, one of the prominent Orcs, was imprisoned. “But we’re treading carefully for the armies of Orcs inside the Misty Mountain are not to be ignored. It is also incredibly onerous to argue in front of Wizengamot that we have just cause for action without severe provocation from the Orcs.” He sighed, “Besides, the Wizarding society has barely recovered from the Last Wizarding war where too many innocent lives have been lost. Personally, I don’t want to cause another one.”

Even though he had never experienced the Last Wizarding War, Kíli could understand Dwalin’s feelings. Witnessing the loss of his One as well as so many of his friends must have put a heavy burden on him. Kíli himself, however, could not suppress the thirst for revenge. His parents had been murdered while their killers were still at large. All he wanted was justice for them. It sounded like he was not the only one though if there had been talks about reclaiming the Misty Mountains. Maybe he could join them when they did decide to take action.

Dwalin’s original plan was to spend one more day in the Misty Mountains with Kíli before Apparating them back. But a pleasant surprise greeted them the next day, in the form of a cheerful Nori and an exhausted Ori, which prolonged their stay.

“Ori!” Kíli was so excited to see his friend that he practically raced towards Ori before engulfing him in a tight embrace. “You’ve made it!”

Nori laughed. “Barely. Now let my poor brother go. You’re suffocating him.”

Upon closer look, Ori did look worse for wear. His normally tidy hair was now wild and matted and he seemed to have lost some weight. Kíli reckoned that Nori’s carefree nature was no comparison to Dori’s meticulous ministration. “Heaven above! Are you alright, Ori?”

Ori looked up defiantly. “I’m fine! Honestly!”

“Our wee Ori has found this kind of physical activity and the lack of delicious food a bit taxing,” Nori smirked as he ruffled Ori’s hair, which partially explained its current state. “Not everyone’s built like Gloín’s stallion of a lad who wrestles Hippogriff for fun. But no need to worry. There’s nothing a good Firewhiskey can’t fix.”

“Nori!” Dwalin sounded half amused, half exasperated.

“How was your trip?” asked Ori. “When did you get here?”

Kíli grinned. “It’s been quite fun actually. We’ve had some minor hiccups but nothing serious. We arrived a couple of days ago and were planning to leave today.” He turned to look pleadingly at Dwalin. “Can we stay for a day or two, please? I’d love to catch up with Ori!”

“Yeh can do that when yeh’re both safely back in Erebor.” Dwalin was reluctant but finally caved at Kíli’s innocent puppy eyes. “Fine, just one more day then we’ll head out. Let’s all stay close. I reckon that the Orcs won’t dare to do anything with the four of us here but it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Lighten up, Dwalin. We’ll not run into Orcs,” said Nori cheerfully. “My crystal ball has assured me as much.”

Dwalin snorted. It was apparent that he held no favourable opinion of Divination as a subject. Nori, however, did not seem to take offence. Perhaps he was used to people’s scepticism when it comes to Divination, or he simply did not care.

Fortunately, Nori’s prediction had been pretty accurate so far. As they meandered in and out of various deserted rooms inside the Misty Mountain, Kíli could not see any sign of Orcs. It was almost as if they were completely by themselves. The eerie silence that accompanied them had in fact set Kíli on edge rather than calm him down.

“This used to be the Moria Library.” Dwalin pushed open a heavy wooden door that was, like everything, covered in dust and cobwebs. The door creaked loudly before giving away. A strong wind of stale and almost rotten air greeted them, making Kíli cough violently.

Ori, on the other hand, was not deterred by the state of the room. Instead, he walked in with an almost awed look on his face. “Wow!”

The room was very impressive and Kíli could almost imagine its beauty when it was at the height of its grandeur. With countless bookshelves extending to the high ceilings, the room was in a constant state of darkness, only to be alleviated by the warm light from the chandeliers. The books were covered in such heavy layers of dust, their names no longer legible. Yet they called out to him, pleading him to bring them back to the light. Kíli could not help but walk towards the shelves, his hand out, ready to touch the books.

“No!” Dwalin’s voice jerked Kíli out of his trance. “Don’t touch them!”

It was Ori who asked. “Why not? They’re just books.”

Nori shook his head. “Honestly, Ori, you really ought to know. Not all books are harmless. Some have got spells put on them that once you touch them, you end up cursed, like that Bolivian wizard who can only speak to Alpacas after he opened an ancient Inca tome.”

“Nori’s right. These books are some of the most ancient ones in existence. Wizards back then tend to guard their possessions a lot more jealously. We don’t know what kind of spells they carry, which is why we have never attempted to remove them from here.”

“And the Orcs never tried to get these books either?” Kíli found it hard to believe that the Orics, greedy as they were, would contain themselves in front of such a rich mine of knowledge and power.

Dwalin snorted. “Yeh seriously think those gormless idiots can touch these books? They must have tried and likely have paid the price.” He made no attempt to hide the look of satisfaction on his face. “Serves them right. Come on, let’s go.”

Nodding reluctantly, Kíli turned around, only to stop dead on his track. His Sense, which had been rather quiet recently, suddenly flared up. The magic that assaulted his Sense was very faint but extremely unpleasant. It was such a drastic change from Thorin and Fíli’s magic, which Kíli found very comforting, that he had trouble processing it even though it was rather weak. Kíli cast his eyes around. Was someone hiding behind the bookshelves, for surely this unpleasant magic could not belong to anyone in his company? Just to confirm though, Kíli tried to focus on Dwalin, Ori, and Nori, hoping to Sense their magic too.

To his great delight, Kíli’s Sense was soon inundated with three new flows of magic. He thought he could easily differentiate between them. The strongest one of three felt powerful and full of energy, which Kíli was almost certain belonged to Dwalin. The second one was weaker and much more subtle. The lack of aggression made Kíli smile. Nori was never known to be a warrior but his magic felt more complex, just like himself. The weakest one undoubtedly came from Ori. Just like its owner, it was peaceful and slightly shy. Kíli almost felt the urge to touch it playfully with his own.

“Everything alright?” Dwalin’s question made Kíli look up. Apparently, he had frozen on his track that he was now lagging behind while the other three were almost at the door. Shaking his head, Kíli tried to focus on the much darker flow of magic. It was somewhere to his right, even though it was flickering quite quickly as if it was unstable. Without a second thought, Kíli strode towards the bookshelves, his wand out.

Kíli could hear Ori calling after him in desperate voices but he paid his friend no mind. He needed to find out who had been hiding and possibly eavesdropping on them. When he ran past the first bookshelf in front of him though, his leg accidentally bumped into the leg of the shelf in his haste to pursue the undoubtedly dark wizard. The bookshelf swayed on the spot precariously but did not fall. The books on it stayed miraculously in place, saving Kíli the fate of being buried alive by books, an end only Fíli or Ori would welcome. The dust this commotion set off, however, was so violent that Kíli was reduced to a coughing fit. Bent over with heaving coughs, Kíli could only see vaguely through his tears a large bulking figure retreating quickly through the bookshelves before disappearing completely from view.

“What in the name of Merlin’s soggiest pants was that all about?” Nori clearly had no compunction about his language in front of teenagers. Dwalin shot him an exasperated look before turning to Kíli. “What’s the matter, laddie? Yeh can’t just set off suddenly like that. Yeh don’t know what’s lurking in the…”

“Or who,” said Kíli, having finally overcome his coughing fit. He stood up and wiped the tears from his face. “I just…” he hesitated. After all, Nori knew nothing of his Sense. “I think I saw someone hiding behind the bookshelves so I just went to investigate.”

Ori looked troubled. He must have understood the meaning behind Kíli’s words. “If that’s the case, it’s even more dangerous to just go by yourself. It could have been an Orc or a dark wizard spying on us, waiting to attack us.”

“Or it could just be some poltergeist playing a prank on us,” Nori said with a grin. “An ancient place like this is probably infested with all sorts of nasty creatures.”

“It’s not a poltergeist!” Kíli said firmly. “I caught sight of him when he made a run for it. I couldn’t see him clearly through my tears but he looks pretty tall. Big too.”

Dwalin frowned. “Are yeh sure? If yeh’ve really seen someone like that here, he’s most likely an Orc.”

“Could be a female Orc,” said Nori, more seriously this time. “You know Orc females are no pixies.” He turned to Kíli, “How tall do you reckon this Orc is?”

Kíli tried to recall the hazy image that he managed to catch a glimpse of. “The figure’s not that tall. Certainly not tall or big as Azog. But still big enough for me to notice.”

Dwalin and Nori exchanged a quick look. “So it must be either a younger Orc or a female one then.”

If Kíli was completely honest, he thought he knew who the retreating figure was, no matter how impaired his eyesight might be. “I don’t think it’s a fully-grown female Orc.”

“How can you be sure?” Nori looked sceptical. “I know female Orcs are rare but you can’t rule it out.”

Dwalin, however, seemed to understand Kíli’s unsaid words. “If it’s an Orcling, our suspect pool is significantly narrower. But still,” he frowned, “what was an Orc doing in our library? They’re not known bibliophiles.”

Kíli had the same doubt. If his suspicions were correct, as they usually were, it was quite a drastic character change. Unless Bolg had somehow decided to transition into a model student now that he was free from his father’s influences, which Kíli thought was just as likely as a domesticated Quintaped for a pet. Or, Bolg was plotting something. Kíli shuddered to think what kind of evil plans Bolg was hatching that required ancient and obscure magic from the Moria library.

Seeing that nobody could answer the question while the offending Orc was nowhere in sight, Dwalin made the decision to leave the library. Kíli thought he was mostly concerned for their safety rather than solving the mystery. Reluctantly, Kíli followed the group out. But his mind was still on Bolg and what he could be up to.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Kíli's return to Erebor was uneventful, his Hogwarts letter did contain some surprise, or the lack thereof.

The trip back to Erebor was ridiculously easy by comparison. After sending a Patronus message to Dís to confirm the time, Dwalin gripped Kíli firmly by the arm before Apparating them both to the Dís’s sitting room.

“Dwalin! Kíli!” Dís’s relieved voice greeted them the moment they appeared out of thin air. “Thank Mahal! How’s the journey?”

“Fine!” Dwalin said gruffly. “Nothing to worry about. Where’s Thorin?”

Dís raised an eyebrow but answered anyway. “He’s in the middle of a meeting in his study.”

Without another word, Dwalin strode towards Thorin’s study, evidently intent on filling Thorin in on everything they had witnessed during the trip. Dís turned to Kíli. “You must be famished, my love. I bet berries and roasted rabbits don’t taste too good, do they?”

Kíli grinned sheepishly. Despite Dwalin’s best effort, Kíli was rubbish at cooking spells. The quality of their food thus suffered dramatically. Now that he was back, Kíli was fully looking forward to Dís’s scrumptious cooking. “Some food would be great, Mrs Arken.” He looked around the room and asked, “Where’s Fíli?”

With a wave of her wand, the table in the sitting room was covered by all sorts of decadent dishes. Once Kíli had tucked in, Dís answered his question. “He’s gone to visit Gimli. We did not expect you to come back so early. Dwalin’s message yesterday said that you’d be there for at least another two days.”

Through a mouthful of food, Kíli managed to somehow talk without spitting food all over Dís’s highly-polished and beautifully-decorated table. “That was the plan until we saw someone spying on us in the Moria Library today.”

The motherly look on Dís’s face was instantly replaced with a frown. “Who’s spying on you? Had they tried anything? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Kíli reassured Dís quickly. He then proceeded to tell her everything that he had seen. Unlike when he was with Nori, Kíli did not feel the need to hide his Sense from Dís. Even though they had never talked about it, he was sure that the Lady of Erebor was aware of his special gift. She was Fíli’s mum and Thorin’s sister after all.

“That must be why Dwalin is so eager to see my brother,” said Dís thoughtfully. “But who could that be? I’ve never met a bookworm Orc before. Most of them cannot appreciate the nuances and subtlety in spell-casting as they naturally gravitate towards the much cruder and brutal form of magic. You’ll be hard-pressed to find an Orc who manages to get a N.E.W.T. in anything not dark magic related.”

Somehow this did not surprise Kíli at all. Granted he had not come into contact with that many Orcs but the specimens he had encountered so far speak for themselves. “Does the Moria Library contain books on Dark Magic then?”

Rather than simply replying with a simple Yes or No, Dís said slowly, clearly choosing her words carefully. “It is very hard to say, Kíli. You must understand that even with trips like this, very few Dwarves get the opportunity to linger long in the Moria Library enough to peruse the books. The Orcs, despite their clear disinclination to reading, understand the power of knowledge, especially in the right hands. They, therefore, do not wish to grant us access to the Library for fear that we would use the magic inside those books to overthrow them.”

“But we were…”

“They tolerate our stay there for a day or two but not more. Due to the ancient protective spells put on the books, many of which are lost to us now, it takes more than a couple of days to gain access to the books. If you have overstayed your welcome,” Kíli snorted at the word ‘welcome’, “you’ll surely find yourself in the delightful company of some not so friendly Orcs. In fact, I’m almost inclined to believe that the Orc you have seen might have been a subtle reminder that it is time for you to leave, had I not known that Orcs are notorious for their lack of subtlety.”

Kíli thought hard on this. “So you’re saying we’ve been under the Orcs surveillance the whole time.”

“Of course,” Dís said with such certainty that Kíli wondered why he was ever naive enough to believe that the Orcs would ever let them into their territory unsupervised. “Never underestimate your enemies, Kíli. Most non-Orc wizards, even the great ones, my brother and Dwalin included, tend to regard Orcs as nothing but destructive creatures with no brain and often low magical calibre. But I know they’re anything but. They can be ruthless but also very cunning and manipulative, as you can probably tell from Azog. Their magical prowess is not to be underestimated either, as their natural affinity for the Dark Arts makes them experts in that area.”

This certainly fit the Orcs Kíli had met. Azog, in particular, embodied all the qualities Dís had described. He alone was responsible for Bolg and his own acquittal in the failed attempts on Fíli’s life. His plans had also been rather ingenious, such as the use of House Elves, and almost succeeded had it not been luck and Kíli’s Sense. Even though Bolg had failed to demonstrate that he possessed more brain cells than a slug, Kíli had to admit that the Slytherin was more naturally gifted at the Dark Arts, if he had managed to pull all those stunts as Kíli believed he did. “So the Orcs are the Dark wizards. The Moria Library must have very few books that they can use then.”

“Not necessarily,” said Dís slowly. “Now I cannot know for sure but I am quite positive that the Moria Library contains quite a few books about magic in the darker realm.”

“But how…”

“What you must understand, Kíli,” Dís said with a patient tone, “is that the line between Dark and Light magic has been historically rather blurred. It wasn’t until quite recently, a couple of hundred years ago, that it had been firmly drawn. Before that, magic was simply treated as, well, magic. It doesn’t mean there were no laws to govern the use of magic though,” Dís added quickly at the scandalised look on Kíli’s face. “The use of magic to cause others harm had always been forbidden. But it was the act, not the choice of magic, that had been penalised. Believe it or not, many wizards interested in the Dark Arts nowadays argue that we should revert to the old ways. The magic, they argue, is not the cause of such crimes. It’s the wizard who chooses to use magic in such a way. A Light spell such as Reducto can be just as destructive if done with malicious intent.”

This was a perspective Kíli had never considered before. As much as he hated to admit it, he almost agreed with them. Wasn’t this the same as guns in the Muggle world? It was dangerous in the wrong hands but so would a knife, or even a heavy chair. Yet somehow this did not feel right. “A Light spell might cause a lot of damage but it takes extra effort, doesn’t it? While the Dark spell can do the same if not more without much effort, can’t it? Besides, the Light spell can be used for so many other purposes while the Dark spell is used mostly to cause harm, even though sometimes it’s for a right cause.”

Dís beamed at him. “Very well, Kíli. Your arguments are certainly valid. I take it that you are drawing parallels from guns and other weapons in the Muggle world.”

“How do you…”

“I’m not my brother or most of the Dwarves.” Dís laughed heartily. “I’m one of Melian’s best friends and she told me quite a bit about the Muggle world. Absolutely fascinating. But in addition to that, the Dark Arts is more dangerous than the guns because it can bewitch your mind and ensnare your soul. That’s why so many wizards who start looking into the Dark Arts for pure academic curiosity turn into heartless monsters later. It’s not impossible to resist the temptation of the Dark Arts but it takes superior willpower and a truly pure heart. Anyway, what I’m trying to tell you is that not everything is black or white. I know that you’re surrounded by people who tend to think so. But morality can be ambiguous or downright maddening sometimes. It never hurts to try to see from the other side’s perspectives.”

Kíli nodded. He had only experienced too much of the wizard’s biased and self-important view of the world. “If the Moria Library has those books on the Dark Arts, isn’t it dangerous that the Orcs are in control of it? Won’t they learn more Dark magic from the library?”

“It is certainly one of our major concerns.” The laugh on Dís’s face had vanished. “We’re hoping that the complex and powerful protective spells will hold. But it’s not to say that some brilliant Hogwarts graduate won’t come back and break the curse. After all, the Dark Arts are extremely powerful and feared for a good reason.”

“Why does Hogwarts let the Orcs in and teach them magic? Aren’t we helping the enemy by honing the magical skills that they can later use to learn the Dark Arts?”

Dís sighed, “You’re not the only one who questions this decision. During the Last Wizarding War, in particular, many argued that Hogwarts shall expel all the Orc students. It was Professor Gandalf who argued on their behalf. He believes that not all Orcs are evil and we would only be condemning them to the dark side if we remove them from the safety of Hogwarts.”

Knowing Gandalf, Kíli was not surprised by the Headmaster’s decision. He was the one who stood up for Bolg too, after all. Yet Kíli could not help but feel that the Headmaster was mistaken. Bolg was certainly beyond salvation. “But if the Orcs are born to like the dark arts, how can Professor Gandalf trust them? They’ll only turn on us later.”

The look on Dís’s face was most peculiar. “I thought you of all people should know that a person’s blood doesn’t define who they are. It is true that Orcs are more dark arts inclined. But like I said, not all wizards who are fascinated by the dark arts turn out evil. Some can control their magic rather than let their magic enslave them. Out of those Orc students who stayed in Hogwarts, only a small percentage became Death Eaters after graduation.”

Kíli blushed. How could he have forgotten it? How could he, who had fought so hard to dispel the prejudice against Muggleborns and Half-Bloods, contribute to another form of discrimination against another group?

“It’s okay, Kíli,” Dís said gently. “We’re all subconsciously biased, one way or another. As long as we recognise and try to minimise it, we can still be fair and open-minded.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The conversation with Dís left Kíli preoccupied for the next couple of days. He had never even considered the possibility that Orcs might not be evil, whatever their feelings towards the Dark Arts. Ever since he had entered the Wizarding world, all he had ever heard about regarding Orcs were that they were stupid and evil creatures. His interaction with Bolg and Azog certainly did nothing to dispel such notions. Yet if Dís were to be believed, and Kíli had no reason to suspect that Fíli’s mother might lie to him about a topic such as this, there was more to Orcs than their unfortunate reputation and stereotypes.

“Kíli, Kíli!” Fíli’s raised voice almost made Kíli jump.

“What?”

Fíli rolled his eyes dramatically. “I’ve been talking to you for the past ten minutes without any response from you. I thought I was talking to a flobberworm.”

“Sorry, mate.” Kíli grinned sheepishly. “I was a bit distracted.”

The easy smile on Fíli’s face was immediately replaced with one of concern. “I’ve noticed that since you came back. Is everything alright? Did something happen during the trip?”

“Everything’s fine,” Kíli reassured Fíli quickly. It made him feel somewhat guilty that he had been behaving to the extent that it worried Fíli. “Nothing happened. I was just thinking about something your mum said. She’s extremely open-minded, you know?”

Fíli’s eyes lit up and he beamed with such pride that it brought a fond smile to Kíli’s face. “Mum’s brilliant! She’s never been one to blindly follow rules or conventions. Critical thinking is something she truly values and she’s bloody good at it. That’s why she sees things for what they are, not what people tell her. When she was in Hogwarts, she had made loads of friends and not just with Dwarves. I think that’s why she’s so open to other cultures and ways of thinking. She used to give uncle so much trouble. She would never just follow him without a valid reason.”

This sounded so like Dís that Kíli laughed. “I bet she’d kept your uncle in line.”

“I think so.” Fíli nodded. “Her presence helps uncle with his decisions more he’s willing to admit. He knows he can’t make her do things simply because he’s the leader of the Dwarves. Uncle learnt his lesson ages ago.”

“When did your mum decide to marry your dad?”

“Mum downright refused this whole arranged marriage concept. You know our family wanted her to marry your dad? Your dad wasn’t the only one who rebelled against it. Mum point-blank refused too. She said that she’d rather end up an old maid than marrying someone she did not love. You had no idea how pleased she was when your dad broke it off. Afterwards, when uncle tried to find her another suitable match, mum announced to the whole family that she was in love with dad. They did not approve of course but she was adamant. She was ready to elope with dad if they refused to give them their blessing. In the end, it was uncle who caved, when it became obvious that mum and dad were each other’s One.”

The idea of the One was perhaps one of Kíli’s favourites in the Dwarven culture. Now that he had experienced an albeit brief relationship with Tauriel, he could appreciate how romantic it was. He could, therefore, hardly blame Dís for willing to sacrifice everything to be with her One. Then a thought struck his mind. “If your mum is so big on following one’s heart, why does she let your uncle arrange your marriage?”

Fíli nearly choked on his tea. “It was just a plan, Kíli, which has now changed! I’m not marrying Miss Zirakzigil.”

“But you invited her to the Yule Ball.” Kíli was confused. If Fíli was not interested in Eira Zirakzigil - his heart skipped a bit at the thought - why would he follow all these courtship rules, or did Kíli completely misunderstand Dwarf custom?

The colour on Fíli’s cheek was suspiciously pink. “I did but that was when I thought I had no other option. I felt that since I could not follow my heart, I might as well indulge uncle in his political planning so something good might come out of this. That’s why I asked her to the Yule Ball with me. I mean, we had a great time but in the end, I couldn’t go through with it. It isn’t fair for her either. She’s such a nice girl who deserves a husband who adores her and loves her with all his heart. I’m not that person. That, with the changed situation, means that I will not form any sort of relationship beyond friendship with Miss Zirakzigil. I told her the moment I made up my mind. Miss Zirakzigil, who possesses the grace and kindness of a true lady, understands my reasoning and has released me of any obligations to her.”

Kíli felt his heart swell so much at the news that he ignored the details of Fíli’s changed heart. “But what about your uncle? Surely he wants you to marry Miss Zirakzigil. Will he,” Kíli hesitated because he did not want to say it out loud in case it turned out to be true, “disinherit you?”

Fíli grimaced. “I hope not! In all honesty, I don’t know. Had it been anything else, I would say that uncle would never do that since he’s fiercely defensive of those that he cares about. But when it really comes down to it, I don’t know which one he will place first, family or Erebor? But mum is on my side and she has told me that she’ll always support my decision no matter what. She will speak to uncle if he’s, well…”

“Being pigheaded, you mean?” Kíli grinned. “I hope it doesn’t come to that but at least you’ve got your mum and I’m sure she can make your uncle change his mind. She’s not someone you want to cross. You know you can always count on me too, don’t you? Whatever you’ve decided, I’m behind you one hundred per cent!” And he meant every word.

The smile on Fíli’s face was both beautiful and full of longing. Before Kíli could ask, however, Fíli changed the topic quickly. “So, have you heard that uncle paid Bolg a visit?”

This piece of information piqued Kíli’s interest immediately. “Has he? When? Was he there to ask Bolg about the Moria Library? What has he found out?”

“Uncle went to Azog’s estate in Berkshire yesterday, under the pretence of checking in on him to see how he’s coping after his father’s incarceration. I think he was hoping to catch Bolg unprepared because one of Bolg’s conditions for returning to Hogwarts is to stay in his father’s estate during the summer. If he wants to go out, he needs to inform a Hogwarts staff to act as his chaperon in the absence of his guardian. But unfortunately, Bolg was there.”

“He was there?” Kíli could not believe his ears. It had only been two days since he had returned. How did Bolg get back to Berkshire so quickly when he could not Apparate? “But how?”

Fíli shook his head. “I don’t know. Uncle talked to him but couldn’t discern anything unusual or suspicious, well, not beyond Bolg’s usual unpleasantness anyway. Bolg appeared to be just like his own self if a tad subdued. Uncle did not linger long. He did not want to spook Bolg. After all, he must be under a lot of stress and certainly doesn’t need extra helpings from us, especially if he’s innocent.”

Thorin’s decision not to probe too much made sense to Kíli, albeit for different reasons. He did not want Bolg to realise that they were on to him. If the four years of Hogwarts had taught Kíli anything about Bolg, it was that he was extremely vengeful. There was no way that the Slytherin would take his father’s arrest and incarceration lying down. “No matter. We will know one way or another once we board the Hogwarts Express. I will be able to Sense his magic and tell if it’s the same as that of the spy in the Moria Library.”

Fíli’s face lit up. “Speaking of that, it’s absolutely wicked that your Sense has developed so much! Can you Sense everyone’s magic now?”

“I don’t think so.” Kíli pouted. He still remembered his disappointment when he failed to Sense Dís’s magic when he came back. “I think it’s triggered by special events and circumstances, or when I’m pushing the limit of my magic. I’ll need to look more into that though. Maybe Hogwarts Library has some books on that.”

“Too bad we can’t go to visit the Restricted Section at will,” Fíli said with clear longing in his voice. “I can’t believe we still need to wait another year. I mean, if you’re going to appoint 5th years as Prefects, why not give them free access to the Restricted Section?”

Kíli laughed. “Only you and Ori will complain about something like this.” One thing that did get his attention was the mention of Prefects. Kíli had completely forgotten that 5th years were eligible to be Prefects. He could still remember his first day in Hogwarts when he looked at the shining badge on Aragorn’s chest in awe. It had seemed so unattainable at the time that it never dawned on Kíli that he was now at the stage where it was well within reach. Would they select him though? Unlike Fíli, who almost certainly would be a Prefect, Kíli’s claim to the position was much weaker. He did not have the same grades as Fíli, nor natural leadership qualities. Yet Kíli quite wanted it. It would be a great part of his Wizarding school experience, something to prove that he was worthy and truly belonged.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Their Hogwarts letter arrived in mid-August, just before Dís started to get nervous that there would not be enough time left to buy all the school supplies. With the matter of Prefect selection in mind, Kíli ripped his open eagerly, only to find it without the shining badge that had just slipped out of Fíli’s envelope.

“Fíli!” Dís’s joyous cry made Fíli blush. “Well done, my dear! A Prefect! Your father would have been so proud!”

“Congratulations! Well done, mate!” Even though Kíli was less than pleased with his own letter, it did not stop him from being genuinely happy for Fíli. He frankly could not think of anyone else more deserving the honour.

Fíli, on the other hand, frowned at Kíli’s light envelope. “You should have got one too! You’re more than qualified to be one!”

Now that Fíli had mentioned it, Dís had noticed Kíli’s lack of badge too. Like Fíli, she did not seem convinced about the decision either. “This is odd. Surely you’d have…” her voice trailed off when she saw the badly-hidden look of disappointment on Kíli’s face, try as he might. “I’m so sorry, darling. I’m sure they’d reconsider next year.”

This was highly unlikely since Kíli had never seen a change of Prefects while he was in Hogwarts. Of course, there was still the Head Boy but Kíli was not going to delude himself into thinking that he stood any chance against Fíli when he could not even make Prefect. But he had no wish to ruin Fíli’s day for him. Pushing down his own disappointment, Kíli gave Fíli and Dís a bright smile. “I’m fine, really! But this is Fíli’s big day! We should celebrate!”

Fíli frowned and opened his mouth. Whatever refusal he might have was interrupted by the arrival of Gimli, whose loud voice preceded him. “Fíli, Kíli, guess what? I’ve been made a Prefect! They really are a bunch of nutters, aren’t they?”

Despite his disappointment, Kíli snorted with laughter. Typical Gimli.

“Gimli,” Fíli sounded exasperated, “honestly!”

“It’s true!” Gimli said indignantly. “Who in their right mind would pick me as a Prefect? Oh hi, Lady Dís. But seriously, unless Professor Dáin has finally managed to drive all the Head of Houses and Professor Gandalf mental, which I wouldn’t put past him but still, there’s no way they’d pick me as a Prefect. Anyone with half a brain cell would pick Kíli. I mean, he’s probably going to make a dog’s dinner out of it but at least he’s better than me.”

“Cheers, mate,” Kíli said sarcastically, “for your vote of confidence.”

“Any time!” Gimli grinned. “But seriously, you deserve it more than I do.”

Kíli beamed at him. Surprisingly, Gimli’s admission made him feel better about the situation than anything else, more than Fíli and Dís’s kind words even. Because Kíli knew Gimli was never one to mince words. He would never sugarcoat something just to make you feel better, which probably explained his disastrous courtship with Ylva Stonehelm. Gimli’s recognition, therefore, meant more to Kíli than anyone else’s. “Thanks, Gim! That means a lot. But you’ll do great too! I’m sure.”

Gimli shrugged. “I dunno. It’s too much of a faff if I’m honest. I’d rather spend my time outside working with those magical creatures than inside, chasing after first-years with Mister Lock at my heels.”

Despite Gimli’s reluctance, Dís had decided to throw a little party for Fíli and Gimli to celebrate their new position. Dwalin and Balin were invited naturally, along with Gloín. Kíli had never really interacted with his Arithmancy professor outside of class so he was not quite sure what to expect. He hoped that Gloín would not be the same demanding professor when he was no longer teaching. But if Gimli’s stories were anything to go by, the chances were slim.

“Congratulations, laddies.” Dwalin patted both Fíli and Gimli heartily on the back. “Yeh’ve done well.” He was, however, eyeing Kíli from the corner of his eyes. Not wishing to worry Dwalin, Kíli flashed his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor a bright smile before going over the table to fetch some food.

Apparently, not everyone was worried about Kíli’s reaction to being left out. Gloín was talking loudly to Balin when Kíli arrived at the food table. “I’m very pleased with Gimli. For once, he has made the family proud. I hope he will shoulder his responsibilities more seriously from now on.”

“The laddie is still young,” said Balin patiently before giving Kíli a kind smile. “He will grow into his duties soon enough.”

“Well,” Gloín did not seem mollified, “he should be old enough to realise that his life is more than just class and fun with some beasts. He’s no Muggleborn with no family history to speak of. As the only heir to an ancient Pureblood family, he must do right by his family.”

His good mood dashed as quickly as humanly possible, Kíli gave Balin a weak smile before turning away from the table. His rational brain was telling him not to get upset over what Gloín had said because his Arithmancy professor probably did not even mean it in a hurtful way, but Kíli still felt stung. What was more, the party around, vibrant as it were, only made him feel like an outsider. Everyone else was part of the Pureblood Dwarven culture and society, something he desperately wanted to be part of, especially after his trip to the Misty Mountains. He just did not know if he could.

Wishing to get away from the celebrating crowds, Kíli picked up his plate of food and quickly walked out of the sitting room. His first thought was to go back to his room but his path was blocked by a clearly inebriated Gimli, who was wearing a hat that looked suspiciously like his unwashed underpants. Turning back, Kíli wandered down the dark corridor, hoping that he would find an empty room where he could eat his food in silence.

“... unfair. Kíli’s more than qualified to be a Prefect.” Dwalin’s angry voice made Kíli stop dead on his track. The voice was coming from the Library. Even though Kíli could not hear the reply of the other person in the room, his Sense had informed him of that person’s identity. Edging closer to the door, Kíli strained his ears to listen to the conversation, the plate of food completely forgotten.

“... no choice. Of course I am aware that Kíli may very well be the better candidate. But I have to take the political climate into consideration. With Azog and many of his minions gone, there’s a power vacuum in the Ministry that I’ve been trying to fill. But I’m not the only one. If I can put more right people in place, it will make life a lot easier for us.”

A loud thump nearly made Kíli jump. It sounded like Dwalin had slammed his fist on the wall. “It’s always politics for yeh, isn’t it, Thorin? What about the lad? Yeh know how much he cares about being recognised and acknowledged. To be snubbed simply because he’s not from a Pureblood family? How will Kíli feel about this? Is power really worth more than his happiness?”

“You know it’s not just about power!” Thorin’s raised voice sounded defensive. Kíli could almost imagine the subtle change in Thorin’s body language. “Even though Azog is incarcerated, the danger the Dark side has posed is not completely gone. And you know that Gandalf agrees with me. We need all the support we can get. You know how restless the Dwarven Purebloods are nowadays with the increasing number of Muggleborn students admitted into our society. We need to assure them that the old ways are not dead and they’re not being pushed away because of the new blood. You know more than I do what the Dark side promised them during the Last Wizarding War. For Mahal’s sake, why do you think Thranduil stayed neutral last time? Because even though he despises Sauron and his Death Eaters, well, more than he despises everyone else, Thranduil agrees with their ideas that Muggleborns should not be part of the Wizarding society. You remember how hard we had to work to convince the Dwarven lords to join us in the fight. What do you think they will think if we pick Kíli, a Half-Blood, something they fear the most because he’s the sure evidence of the mixing of bloodlines, to be a Prefect over Gimli? If the Dark side does arise soon, what do you think they will do? I’m doing this for Kíli, for everyone! I’m doing to ensure that we stand a better chance should the war come to us again. I’m trying to save him from the terrible fate he’ll undoubtedly suffer if we lose the war.”

After a long pause, Dwalin finally said, “I see. I apologise. Is that why Lady Galadriel agreed with your choice?”

“Yes. She was originally going to pick Kíli and became rather offended when I suggested Gimli instead. But once I explained my reasoning, she understood my motives. It was Gandalf who persuaded her in the end.”

“Gandalf? Because of the war?”

“Yes but more. Gandalf also has no wish to make Kíli a bigger target. You remember our conversation after Kíli and Fíli defeated the Basilisk. The next several years have not exactly proved us wrong. I can never remember that many attempts on a student’s life inside Hogwarts. I can’t shield Fíli from it all because he’s already as big of a target as it is. But if I can protect Kíli in any way I can, I will.”

Dwalin sighed heavily. “Right. I guess, all things considered, this is the best choice then. I just feel sorry for the lad.”

“Kíli will understand one day. It’s not the end of the world. It will free him from the extra commitment so he can concentrate on his studies. You’ll continue your lesson with him when the school term starts?”

“Of course.”

“Excellent. He will need to be prepared. We all need to.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli found out who the rest of the new Prefects were. His encounter with Bolg also turned out to be a bit of a surprise.

Kíli waited until the next day to fill Fíli in on everything he had overheard, partly because he did not want to ruin Fíli’s party, partly because he had to ponder over what he had learnt from the conversation.

What worried Kíli the most was that everything he had experienced and heard pointed to the fact that the Dark side was gaining force, despite the setback in losing Azog and several other powerful Death Eaters. His relief at the incarceration of Azog before the summer had almost evaporated by this point. Bolg’s mere presence (he was going to hold on to his hypothesis until proven otherwise) in the Moria Library did little to ease his concerns.

As for how he felt about Thorin’s explanation, if he was completely honest, Kíli was torn. His rational mind was telling him that Thorin did this for a good reason, which might eventually make his life a lot better. But his emotional mind was having a hard time reconciling that with his feelings. Because in the end, Kíli was hurt by Thorin’s choices. No matter what Thorin’s motivation might be, he did pick his political agenda over Kíli’s feelings. Even though Thorin claimed that he was driven predominantly by his concern for Kíli’s safety, Kíli kept wondering if this was just a convenient excuse for Thorin. It was not that Kíli suspected Thorin of lying. He believed that his Potions Master was telling the truth, or at least what he thought was the truth. But what if Thorin’s political agenda was subconsciously his main reason and Kíli’s safety just fell on his lap so Thorin could justify his choices to himself?

Fíli’s reaction to the content of the conversation was not much different from what Kíli had anticipated. Even though Kíli had tried his best to keep his tone neutral, he suspected that he might have failed miserably. The first thing that Fíli did was apologise. “I’m so sorry, Kíli. I know uncle thinks that his reason justifies his actions but for you, it hardly makes a difference, does it?”

There was little use denying it. “Well, yeah, I’m still quite upset.” Kíli could feel his face heat up. “I, I dunno. But somehow hearing your uncle saying it makes it worse. I was almost okay with it, you know?”

“I understand,” Fíli said and he patted Kíli’s hand sympathetically. “It’s one thing to think that some unknown authority figure made the decision because he doesn’t know better, quite another to realise that it was someone who knows you well enough that pulled the trigger.”

Kíli nodded. Fíli was of course right. There was more to it, however. For reasons he could not explain, Kíli cared about Thorin’s opinion more than anyone else’s. Was it because Thorin was closer to him? His relationship with Dwalin was much stronger and certainly not fraught with tension and awkwardness. Yet Thorin’s, for lack of a better word, betrayal felt more personal, almost as personal as Fíli’s if he ever chose to dismiss Kíli like that. “I know I shouldn’t stay angry at your uncle. He’s doing it for my own good as well. I just can’t stop myself from thinking that maybe he’s only using my welfare as an excuse to, well…”

“To further his political gains.” Fíli finished his sentence for him. When Kili gave him a sheepish grin, Fíli smiled. “Honestly, I wouldn't put it past uncle had this happened two years ago. But I don’t think so now. He genuinely cares about you, Kíli. I’m not saying that he’s not interested in politics or will pass up an opportunity should it come his way. But I do think that if it comes down to you and the politics, uncle will eventually choose you.”

“I’m just being stupid, aren’t I?” Kíli said, his face hot. “I’m being completely unfair to your uncle.”

The smile on Fíli’s face was full of understanding. “His past record has not exactly been spotless, has it? Besides, you need to find someone to blame in situations like this, when your heart and your mind are at war with each other. It’s only natural.”

“Why do you get to be so wise?” Kíli sighed. The only problem with being friends with Fíli was that sometimes Kíli felt incredibly stupid and childish.

Fíli shook his head and smiled. “I am hardly wise when it comes to my own problems. It’s always easier to analyse others since you’re an unbiased observer.”

This did make Kíli feel better, if only slightly. In all honesty, he could not recall Fíli ever having a problem. Even in the case of his arranged marriage, Fíli had handled it with grace and dignity. “What do you think about your uncle’s concern? Do you think the Dark side is really gaining power?”

Fíli’s smile faded. “I sincerely hope uncle is wrong but I’m afraid not. Uncle has worked against the Dark side for so long that few know them as well as he does. He was the one who realised the true scale of the war before anyone else did in the Last Wizarding War. The fact that Professor Gandalf agrees with him, and that Lady Galadriel is persuaded, means that the situation is indeed precarious.”

“I had hoped that with Azog and his scumbag friends living at her Majesty’s pleasure, the threat from the Dark side would disappear.” Kíli could hardly contain the disappointment in his voice.

“Her Majesty’s what?”

“Oh,” Kíli grinned. “I forgot. It’s a Muggle saying. It means that you’re locked up in prison.” Despite all these years in the wizarding world, Kíli still found himself opting for Muggle expletives and slangs. Merlin’s pants was still not part of his vocabulary, despite Gimli’s obvious fondness of it.

Fíli shook his head. “Muggles are strange sometimes. But anyway, yes, we have thwarted Azog’s plans and perhaps delayed the Dark side from rising for a while. But it doesn’t mean we’re safe. Azog and his Death Eaters were just a fraction of something much bigger. The only saving grace we’ve got is that Sauron is still banished from this world. With Smaug nowhere to be found, the Dark side does not have enough power to overtake the Ministry. It won’t stop them from trying though.”

The fact that someone could be killed yet still be alive was something that Kíli had a real hard time grasping when he first heard of Sauron’s defeat. He had thought that more time in the Wizarding world would solve that for him but apparently not. “How could Sauron still be alive? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’m not sure,” said Fíli slowly. “It allegedly involves some extremely advanced and complex Dark Magic that are just as bad as the Unforgivables, if not worse. Uncle would never explain what to me, which makes sense. But from what I can gather, Sauron is not exactly alive either. He’s somewhat banished from this world and cannot return except under very special circumstances. But the fact remains that he can return and that alone has inspired many botched attempts from former Death Eaters. Hence everyone’s trying their hardest to prevent this from happening.”

Kíli shuddered. This did sound like something the Death Eaters would go to great lengths to do, regardless of the legality of the means. He simply could not imagine what sort of an existence Sauron had, being neither alive nor dead. Before he could comment on the matter more, however, Gimli stumbled into the sitting room, his hair in disarray and his eyes bloodshot.

“Morning,” grumbled Gimli as he threw himself down next to Kíli and promptly buried his head in his hands.

“It’s already lunchtime.” Kíli could hardly keep a snigger off his face. “Fun time last night, isn’t it?”

Gimli’s reply was so muffled that neither Kíli nor Fíli caught it. “Pardon?”

“Arrrgh.” After extracting his head from his arms, Gimli gave them a pleading look. “Please, not so loud. My head is pounding as it is.”

Fíli shook his head disapprovingly. “You need to watch your drinking, Gim. You can’t just get pissed every time there’s an event.”

“I think he just gets pissed every time he drinks.” Kíli’s sneer was met with a scowling look from Gimli, which in his current state was about as frightening as a Pygmy Puff. “But honestly, how many hangovers do we have to watch you go through?”

“I might have overdone it a bit,” admitted Gimli reluctantly. “I just got carried away. Dad was so proud last night and you know he’s never been proud of me.” He grimaced. “I guess my action last night did not exactly speak in my favour. I hope he’s not disappointed already.”

This was something Kíli could relate to. He had wanted to gain the acknowledgement of the Wizarding World since he had entered it but in particular that of Thorin. It had been quite a journey that had certainly brought him down many times. He could imagine how much harder this would be for Gimli because Gloín was his father, who, in Kíli’s opinion, should be proud of his son as long as he was an honest and kind person, which Gimli was, despite his rather uncouth mouth and unfortunate tendency to overindulge every now and then.

“I’m sure he still is, proud of you, I mean,” Fíli clearly felt the same way as he said firmly. “You’ve done well, being a Prefect, but Professor Gloín should be proud of you regardless. You’re a great loyal friend, you're funny, and you’ve got a real talent with magical creatures.”

Gimli sighed in a most un-Gimli way. “Thanks, mate. But you know my dad. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with my career choice. Prefect, on the other hand, is a different story. It’s a great honour, at least according to my dad. It’s not exactly easy to become one, either, is it?”

“Who else’s been made Prefect?” Kíli was suddenly curious. He knew that Tauriel never was one so there must be certain requirements in grades.

“I only know the boys,” said Gimli. “Because dad bragged about it to Balin. Apparently, Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot didn’t get picked, which really pleased dad.” Gimli snorted. “Figures. Bain is the Hufflepuff Prefect instead. As for the Slytherin Prefect, is there even anyone else that can be selected?”

“Legolas?” Kíli could not exactly call this unexpected. Apart from Legolas, every other fifth-year boy in Slytherin was either evil like Bolg or thicker than a concussed pygmy puff, or both.

Gimli nodded. “Pretty boy’s going to be insufferable with his new badge. Just the thought of working with him is enough to make me resign.”

A quick exchange of looks with Fíli told Kíli that they were thinking along the same line. Gimli’s animosity towards Legolas was well-known and somewhat perplexing. If anyone should be annoyed by the stuck-up Elf, it should have been Kíli, who had been at the receiving end of some of Legolas’s extremely unkind remarks during their early years at Hogwarts. Even though Legolas’s attitude had mellowed down considerably recently, he was still a haughty Pureblood who most likely adhered to his Pureblood supremacy ideology. Not to mention that he had competed with Kíli for Tauriel’s affection. Had it not been for Fíli’s interference, Legolas might have succeeded. Yet Kíli never felt the same passion of annoyance towards Legolas like Gimli, who frankly had little interaction with the Elf, did.

“Maybe you won’t partner up with him in patrolling duties,” Fíli said. “I’m sure you can request your partner with the Head Boy and Girl.”

Gimli perked up noticeably. “It would be great to partner up with you. At least we’d have a good laugh together. I reckon Bain won’t be that bad either. He’s a decent bloke who knows quite a bit about Quidditch.”

Kíli automatically tuned out the conversation about Prefect duties. One more thing he did not account for with his lack of badge was the even more limited time he could spend with Fíli, given Fíli’s added Prefect duties. Perhaps he could spend more time with Ori, who also did not get a Prefect badge. He wondered how Ori felt about the Prefect decision. He doubted that the studious Ravenclaw would feel as down as he did. After all, nobody could possibly hope to get the badge with Fíli in their year and House. “Has anyone seen Ori? I didn’t see him at the party last night.”

“Dori didn’t want him to come,” Gimli said as he helped himself to some toast. “Believe it or not, Dori’s a bit miffed that his dear Ori didn’t make Prefect.”

While Fíli looked uncomfortable, Kíli snorted. “Honestly, is anyone really surprised that it’s going to be Fíli? Surely Dori can’t be this thick.”

Gimli shrugged. “You know Dori. He thinks that light shines out of his dear little Ori’s ars…”

“Gimli!” Fíli looked so scandalised that he tried to silence Gimli with his hand.

“Well, excuse me, Your Royal Highness.” The smirk on Gimli’s face after he escaped Fíli's palm said only too well that he was not in the least bit sorry. “I’m too hungover to censor my language for your delicate ears. But you know I’m right. Dori thinks the world of Ori, whether they’re true or not. He cannot think rationally when his precious perfect baby is involved.”

“What do Professor Nori and Ori say about this?” Kíli hoped that this would not create a rift between the friends.

“Ori’s fine with it really,” said Gimli. “Seriously, anyone with the brain size of a Kneazle could see that Fíli’s got the job tattooed on his head since his first year. For someone as bright as Ori, there’s no way he hasn’t seen it coming. If I’m perfectly honest, I think he’s embarrassed by Dori. He really wanted to come to the party but he did not want to upset Dori any further. As for Professor Nori, he couldn’t care less. In fact, he thinks he’d rather Ori not be Prefect. He thinks that Prefects are for swots and losers.”

Kíli sniggered. He knew that Nori was popular amongst students for a good reason. The important thing was that Ori did not take offence in the Prefect decision. Their friendship was not compromised, no matter what Dori might think on the subject.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the 1st of September finally came, Kíli could hardly wait to get back to Hogwarts. As much fun as Erebor was, he was beginning to miss the castle with all the students, the teachers, the ghosts, and Dáin’s insane magical creatures, as long as they stayed far away from him. The book list for the new school year was much longer than before, possibly due to the upcoming O.W.L.s, which only made Kíli more eager to get back to school. After the lost chance at becoming a Prefect, Kíli was only too determined to prove himself at the next opportunity. Not to mention that these exams are critically important for a wizard’s future, particularly someone like Kíli, who had no family connection or wealth to fall back on. Fíli had been revising vigorously since they had received their textbooks. Even though Kíli was too relaxed and distracted - especially with Gimli around - to follow his friend’s lead, it did make him feel a bit nervous.

The journey proceeded as usual with little fanfare. Just as all the previous years, Thorin and Dwalin had already left for Hogwarts via the Erebor fireplace, which left Dís to care for all of them. The only difference was that both Gimli and Ori had joined them, along with Nori.

“I’m here as reinforcement,” Nori said as he helped Kíli load his school trunk to the Hogwarts Express. “Don’t tell Dís though. She won’t be pleased to hear that she alone isn’t enough. Personally, I wouldn’t cross her with a Chimaera chasing after me. But Thorin wants to play it safe. Hence, everyone sticks together.”

“What’s the fun in that?” Gimli said grumpily. Clearly, he was not overly thrilled to travel to Hogwarts via normal means like everyone else. “I’d rather just floo to school.”

“You can’t,” Fíli said. “Prefects have to report to the Head Boy and Girl for debriefing before doing the rounds on the train.”

“Knew I wouldn’t want to be one for a reason,” muttered Gimli.

“Now,” Dís’s voice commanded everyone’s attention better than anything else. “Behave yourselves, boys. I don’t want any more incidents this year. A nice peaceful year would be great for a change.”

After they had boarded the train and bid Dís and Nori goodbye, they set out to find a compartment. Once they were settled, Fíli rose from his seat awkwardly. “Well, I reckon Gimli and I should go find the Heads’ compartment.”

“What?” Gimli looked mutinous. “We just sat down. Surely that can…”

“We’re Prefects!” Fíli hissed. “We’ve got responsibilities now. Or do you think this is just a shining badge?”

Gimli scowled. “Fine. Let’s go then. The sooner we get it over with, the better.”

In his haste to follow Gimli, possibly to contain the new Gryffindor Prefect on his angry rampage, Fíli forgot to even bid Kíli goodbye, let alone wait to see Kíli’s reaction to their departure.

“Are you alright with this?” Ori’s question took Kíli by surprise. “With the Prefect situation, I mean. It should have…”

“Gimli is the Prefect,” said Kíli forcefully, “and that’s all there is to it. Besides, it’s extra work in our O.W.L. year when I can’t afford to lose any time. Do you know how bad my Potion score is? I heard that Professor Thorin won’t allow anyone without an ‘O’ into his advanced Potions class. My Transfiguration…”

“Kíli,” Ori said in a gentle tone, “it’s okay. I understand.”

Kíli felt his face heat up. Apparently, he still had a lot to learn when it came to hiding his emotions, seeing that he had missed out on that lesson growing up. Desperate to change the subject, Kíli said quickly, “Right. Anyway, have you started revising for the O.W.L.s? Fíli has been unbearable for the last couple of weeks. Are they really that hard?”

Ori looked anxious at the mention of O.W.L.s. “From what I’ve heard, they’re very intense, mostly because we’ve got so many subjects to cover and five years of stuff to revise. Imagine trying to remember all five years of History of Magic notes. Because every subject is important in O.W.L.s, especially for the Ministry. And the exam weeks are almost two weeks long, which is simply exhausting. Everyone I’ve talked to, well, except Nori, seems terrified and traumatised but then again, we’re Ravenclaws so we take exams quite seriously.”

Now that Ori had said that, Kíli wished he had not asked. He frankly had not given subjects like History of Magic too much thought. All his focus had been on Transfiguration and Potions, as they were his weaknesses. Now he wondered if his dream career could slip from his hand because of a subject he regarded as not critical. “Why are the exam weeks so long? Our final weeks aren’t that bad.”

“Because each subject contains both a written and a practical exam,” Ori explained patiently. “The written exam, which usually tests you on your magical theory, takes 3 hours. Then you have to wait for your turn for the practical exam because there are only a handful of examiners from the Ministry to test all of us.”

This introduced another source of fear to Kíli’s heart. “We’re marked by examiners from the Ministry? What if they don’t like me?” He had only had this experience once when he was in his Muggle primary school but Kíli’s Year 3 teacher loathed him. Kíli never really understood why but now when he looked back, he wondered if it was because he was just a poor orphan while some of his schoolmates were a bit more well-off. Whatever the reason for the animosity, Kíli’s grade suffered significantly. He had never worried about it in Hogwarts because all his professor knew him and treated him fairly. Now he wondered if the examiners from the Ministry, whom he had never met before, would be biased because of his second-hand robes and not completely Dwarf looks.

“Oh no, don’t worry!” Ori reassured Kíli quickly. “The examiners are some of the most respected members of the Wizarding world. Even though they work for the Ministry, most of them don’t really take orders from the Minister. All they care about is education. I’ve never heard of any scandal surrounding the exams. You’ll have nothing to fear, well, except the usual O.W.L. stress anyway.”

Kíli opened his mouth to speak but promptly forgot what was on his mind when he saw Fíli outside their compartment. Sure that Fíli was coming back, Kíli waved at his friend enthusiastically, only to have Fíli smile awkwardly at him through the window. “What…”

“He’s doing the rounds,” Ori said. “It usually takes a Prefect a while to…” His voice trailed off because they had just caught sight of Bolg outside their compartment too.

Within seconds, Kíli was next to Fíli. Taking a protective stance in front of Fíli, Kíli asked aggressively, “What do you want, Gundabad?”

To his utter astonishment, Bolg did not rise to Kíli’s less than friendly greeting. Instead, he simply scowled and said, “I’m looking for Legolas.”

“He’s still talking to the Head Boy.” Fíli gave Bolg a suspicious look. “You can find him near the driver’s compartment.”

Bolg nodded and turned back. Kíli was positively gaping at this point. “What’s the matter with him? Is he completely docile now?”

“Maybe his father’s imprisonment has finally taught him a lesson.” Ori, who had also witnessed the exchange, offered hopefully. “I mean he’s still not that polite, is he? He did not seem particularly pleased when you asked him and did not say thank you when Fíli told him where Legolas is.”

Kíli snorted, “Your point may be valid to other normal human beings. To Bolg, he’s being positively sweet. One can’t change that much that quickly. He was still a nasty little shit before the start of summer and your uncle,” he turned to Fíli, “said that he was still unpleasant when he went to visit him.”

“Uncle did say Bolg was more withdrawn,” said Fíli. “And Bolg being Bolg, you have to expect a certain level of unpleasantness.”

“So he’s changing slowly,” Ori said excitedly. “He must have felt the repercussions of his father’s actions over time. I mean,” he added firmly when Kíli scoffed, “I’m not saying that he’s suddenly a darling now or that he’s repenting. Maybe he just got scared because he has just realised how serious these things are. He used to think that his father was untouchable and hence he could get away with anything. Now he has to accept the fact that laws do apply to them. So he’s decided to watch his steps from now on. Honestly, what other choices does he have? Without his father’s influence and with the heavy fine, Bolg has to work hard to secure his own future. Not being a prat seems like an obvious first step.”

This did sound like something Bolg might do. After all, he was sorted into Slytherin for a reason. Not all Slytherins were evil but they were certainly all ambitious and resourceful. Kíli could certainly imagine Bolg pretending to obey the law and even being not quite so unpleasant in order to achieve his goals. The only question was: what was his goal? With Azog incarcerated for life, maybe Bolg did decide to come up with a Plan B for his life. After all, the evidence against Azog was irrefutable and no one had broken out of Azkaban before. “Maybe. But that’s such a scary thought, a civilised Bolg.”

“We should encourage this change,” Ori said eagerly now that Kíli seemed to have accepted his explanation. “If Bolg wants to change for the better, whether out of remorse or fear, we should let him know that it’s a positive thing that we all welcome. This way he will see that the only way forward is to follow this path. Maybe he’ll never slip again, which will surely benefit everyone.”

Fíli did not look entirely convinced but chose not to comment on the matter, perhaps because he had still got patrolling duties. He and Gimli did not return until after lunch.

“I’m starving.” Gimli’s statement was rendered quite obsolete by the loud rumbling of his stomach. “If a missed meal is all I’m going to get, remind me why I’m Prefect again.”

Ori shook his head. “Here. Kíli and I have got both of you some food from the trolley so shut up and stop being so dramatic.”

Kíli laughed. “Hear, hear.” He turned to Fíli. “How was the Prefect meeting?”

It was Gimli who answered, even though it came out all mumbled due to the amount of food in his mouth. “Boring as fu…”

“Gimli!” Ori’s scandalised voice made both Kíli and Gimli laugh. Fíli looked like he was torn between amusement and exasperation.

“Okay, fine.” Gimli rolled his eyes. “I’ll try not to offend your delicate sensibilities. But my point still stands. It’s just boring with loads of rubbish about responsibilities and setting an example. I couldn’t care less and frankly, I think Galion Mirkwood, he’s the Head Boy, is wondering why I’m even there, which is a fair point. But we’ve got our first fortnight’s patrolling schedules and thank Mahal I’m paired up with Bain.”

“Who are you paired up with?” Kíli asked Fíli, who shrugged. “I’ve got Yvla. She’s the 6th year Prefect of Ravenclaw.”

“Better you than me,” Gimli muttered. “I had no idea that she’s made Prefect this year. I didn't know it but Cho quit after last year, saying that it was too overwhelming and she’d like to focus on her studies and Quidditch. Wish I knew that before I agreed to this troll-shit.”

As much as he tried not to, Kíli could not help but feel his hope rise. He had thought that Prefects did not change once selected but clearly that was not the case. Maybe he still stood a chance, especially since Gimli seemed to hate it so much.

“What’s Galion Mirkwood like? You’re mostly reporting to him, aren’t you?” Ori asked and Gimi shrugged. “Bloke seems alright. Typical Hufflepuff though, nice, hardworking but not very bright.”

“Gimli!”

“It’s true.” Gimli insisted. “He’s not the brightest pea in the pod. Decent Quidditch player but honestly I’m surprised they picked him. Reckon they’ve got no one else. After all, no one in their right mind will pick Lindir. Maybe that’s why they’ve got him a Ravenclaw Head Girl, that she’d help him out, you know.”

The news that Tauriel did not make Head Girl did not exactly surprise Kíli. Even without her unintentional blunder, she was hardly Head Girl material. His attitude towards Tauriel had mostly calmed after a whole summer. He now fully accepted that Tauriel never meant for any of that to happen and felt guilty enough as it was, which made him feel bad for her. Yet the tender feelings he had once cherished towards her was lost, perhaps forever. All Kíli hoped was that he and Tauriel could rekindle their friendship, regardless of their romantic inclinations.

So lost in his thoughts that Kíli almost missed the next part of their conversation. “... His Highness? If he’s unpleasant before, he’s absolutely unbearable now. I mean, how smug can one person look with the stupid Prefect badge?”

“I don’t think he’s that bad now.” Fíli had to fight off a smile. “He’s still a little smug, sure. But that’s hardly news from Legolas though, is it?”

“But it’ll only get worse!” Gimli insisted. “Prefects have more power than other students. We can take points from others. Look at the way Bolg tries to grovel to him. Imagine how inflated His Highness’s ego will get once the others start doing the same thing because, let’s face it, they’re Slytherins, they always curry favour with those in power.”

Kíli frowned. Bolg was pandering to Legolas’s ego? That sounded quite out of character for Bolg, who had remained his distance from Legolas ever since their friendship had ended. For someone like Bolg who regarded everyone else as beneath him, no matter how desperate his situation was, Kíli certainly did not expect him to stoop to that level.

“You really are exaggerating.” Fíli shook his head in exasperation. “Bolg’s being nicer to Legolas for sure but I’d hardly call it grovelling. He’s just acting like a normal human being in front of Legolas, even though by his standard he’s positively gracious.”

“Still,” said Gimli, “that’s unusual to Bolg, isn’t it? You said it yourself.”

“I think you’re right in that he’s trying to ingratiate himself with someone in power,” said Ori thoughtfully. “He has to. But is it that unexpected that he picks someone like Legolas? After all, they used to be friends. Legolas is from an ancient Pureblood family, which has probably the purest blood you can find. To someone like Bolg, that’s everything. Not to mention that Legolas is a Slytherin too and there’s no bad blood between them even after their friendship has ended, as far as I know.”

“Whatever the reason, it’s doing us no favours at all,” Gimli said grumpily. “Imagine what will happen if Pretty Boy starts to indulge Bolg’s less than pleasant activities. Gryffindor will have no points left and we might all be dead within the first month.”

“Uncle chose Legolas to be a Prefect for a reason,” said Fíli firmly. “He’s always a good judge of character. We must trust him on this. Besides, we can always keep an eye on them if needed.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When they had finally arrived at Hogwarts, it was positively pouring outside. Rushing to a nearby carriage, Kíli was still amazed by the fact that the Thestrals pulling the carriages were invisible to all but an unfortunate few. He was, however, extremely grateful for the carriage ride because he simply could not imagine sailing through the Black Lake in this torrential rain.

The group separated inside the Great Hall, for it was one of the few occasions where House seating was strictly enforced. Kíli could see the platinum blond hair of Legolas next to Bolg’s sorry-looking face. The contrast was quite disconcerting. At least Bolg did not try to smile, Kíli thought with a grimace. He was not sure if he would ever be able to handle that.

Tauriel was already at the Gryffindor table. To Kíli’s surprise, the seats next to her, which were normally packed with laughing friends of hers, remained deserted.

“It started at the end of last year,” Gimli said in a quiet tone, making Kíli jump. “You were first too angry with her and then too buried under school work to notice it but the school did not take too kindly to her being Imperiused by Azog. Unfortunately, that hasn’t changed over the summer.”

Now that Gimli mentioned it, Kíli did vaguely recall seeing Tauriel by herself much more frequently towards the end of the last school year, looking tired and forlorn. Kíli had thought that it was self-reclusion that Tauriel brought upon herself because of her guilt. Never had he imagined that the whole school had turned on her. He could not believe that he did not notice that. He was even more oblivious than Gimli. What was worse, Kíli realised that his attitude towards Tauriel before the summer probably contributed to his ex-girlfriend’s ostracisation.

“Hi, Tauriel,” Kíli said with a beaming smile on his face when he settled himself resolutely next to Tauriel. Whether he played a part in Tauriel’s isolation or not, Kíli was determined to fix it. “How’s your summer?”

Her eyes wide as saucers, Tauriel blinked a couple of times before saying, in a slightly choked voice. “I, I’m fine. The summer’s been fine.”

Across from the Ravenclaw table, Kíli could see Fíli’s bright smile, which was full of encouragement. He could not help but return it. It seemed that this year would be alright after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new term brought more homework than ever for the 5th years and quite a few changes, some more welcome than the others.

The start of the school term saw the largest amount of homework set by the professors ever. Kíli could hardly believe the workload in the very first week of the term. It seemed that every professor was determined to make sure that nobody forgot this was their O.W.L. year as if anyone needed reminding.

“At the end of this school year, you’ll sit the most important exams of your life,” Lady Galadriel said in an uncharacteristically stern voice, her usual serene smile gone from her face. “Your O.W.L. results not only determine which N.E.W.T.s lessons you can take, but they also affect your career because not all jobs require a N.E.W.T. Needless to say, you must treat O.W.L. as your utmost priority.”

“For those of you who dream to pass your O.W.L. in Potions,” Thorin surveyed the class with a scowl on his face, “much hard work is needed for the current level of this class is abysmal. The potions you will learn this year are infinitely more complicated and dangerous. While some of you might eventually brew something not completely embarrassing, the other dunderheads will need to put every free hour they have into Potions if they even hope to brew a potion that does not cause an immediate painful death. I will not tolerate any behaviour that is anything less than satisfactory. Is that clear?”

“Charms, unlike some more complex branches of magic such as Transfiguration, is all about practice,” Professor Elrond said as he paced up and down the classroom, drawing everyone’s eyes on him. “It is, therefore, my duty to make sure that everyone passes their Charms O.W.L. for there’s no reason why anyone should fail to do so as long as they put in the effort.”

Even Dwalin, who were usually more laid-back about marks, chose a different strategy for his class. “As much as I’d like to keep the classes light and fun like I usually do, we must work hard this year, especially on the theory side, to prepare for yer O.W.L.s, which will be much harder than yer usual simple defensive spells,” said Dwalin before he broke into a big smile. “On the plus side, yeh all get to learn some really cool magic so what’s a little work, eh?”

Dáin, on the other hand, chose to express his opinion less verbally. Kíli could barely walk after an utterly exhausting class with a baby Common Welsh Green. He was pretty sure dragons were not part of the O.W.L. curriculum though, so maybe Dáin just wanted to have some fun himself.

Only Bilbo, it seemed, was not so bothered about O.W.L. results. “I know the exams are important but it’s what we actually learn that is the key.” Bilbo smiled encouragingly at the class. “We have all worked hard and learnt so much about these fascinating plants that I don’t think anyone should overly worry about their Herbology O.W.L. I’m not saying that you should sleep in my class, which, of course, is quite inadvisable for your own safety. But don’t just study for your exams. Study because you want to learn about these plants. That’s the only way you’ll learn.”

With all the professors except Bilbo determined to win the most ridiculous amount of homework set for a week competition, Kíli felt like he was living in the library with Fíli and Ori. Even Gimli had graced the place with his presence more often, albeit somewhat reluctantly.

“I wouldn’t have bothered with any subjects other than Care of Magical Creatures had it not been for my dad.” Gimli practically whined. “I know all the spells I need to deal with magical creatures and I know what I want to do for a career. So why should I care?”

Fíli raised his eyebrows. “Have you told your dad about it?”

Gimli snorted. “Seriously? Dad would have my guts if I do. First of all, they’ll probably strip me of my Prefect Badge if I fail all my O.W.L.s except one. Besides, after they made me Prefect, he seems to think that I’m back to being daddy’s good boy who heeds his every wish.”

“And his wish is?”

“That I go and work in the Ministry,” Gimli groaned. “Since I’m not taking Arithmancy, he’s finally given up the delusional hope that I’ll work for Erebor one day. But he still thinks I should get an office job in the Ministry because that’s the only other respectable job in my dad’s opinion. Honestly, I’d rather die if I’m cooped up inside all day but my dad doesn’t care.”

Kíli gave Gimli a sympathetic look. Even though he still thought Gimli insane to want to emulate Dáin, he understood the desire to be outside and free. More importantly, he knew that nobody should be forced to do something they did not enjoy, no matter the reason because that was just a sure recipe for misery. Knowing Gimli, Kíli would not wish that fate upon his friend.

“Anyway,” Gimli sighed, “I reckon I just need to plough through this year so I can get enough O.W.L.s to shut my dad up. After that, I’ll just… Mahal’s beard, this can’t be real!”

They never got to hear what Gimli intended to do after he received his O.W.L.s and muted his dad because Bolg had turned up in the library with Legolas. Both of them were carrying books in their arms, a scene so bizarre with Bolg that everyone in the vicinity just stared.

“Has His Highness officially lost his mind?” Gimli was so shocked that his eyes were ready to pop out of the sockets. “Is he actually back to being friends with Bolg now? Honestly, I thought he’s moved on from that.”

“You’re missing the point, mate.” Kíli shook his head. “Why on earth is Bolg in the Library? One person can’t change that much.”

Ori looked hopeful. “Maybe he has. Legolas has always worked hard and maybe he’s having a positive influence on Bolg.”

“Not bloody likely,” snorted Gimli. “I agree with Kíli. Bolg’s up to no good and Legolas has officially gone around the bend.”

It seemed that they were not the only ones with the same opinion because everyone around them were talking in hushed whispers while looking furtively at the unlikely pair. While Bolg looked like he could not give a damn in the world, Legolas’s face turned a delicate shade of pink when he caught Gimli’s open stare and Ori’s encouraging smile. Squinting hard, Kíli tried to make out the title of the books in Bolg’s arms. Perhaps sensing his gaze, Bolg smirked when he met Kíli’s eyes. Rather than covering up though, he shifted the books so the spines were facing Kíli. None of them was out of the ordinary.

“See.” Ori had seen the books too. “Those books are perfectly safe and very helpful for O.W.L. revisions. Bolg clearly wants to do well in the exams and there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

Before Gimli could say anything, Fíli asked Kíli, “Did you Sense Bolg’s magic when you met him on the Hogwarts Express?”

Kíli thought hard. Now that he came to think of it, he was too distracted by Bolg’s presence to do that. “Er, no. I was a bit preoccupied.”

“Can you Sense it now?”

Since Bolg was still within a reasonable distance, Kíli thought he would give it a go. Closing his eyes, Kíli tried hard to reach out to Bolg but felt nothing. He could feel Legolas’s magic, however, which was faint but surprisingly pleasant. “No, not really. Why?”

Fíli frowned. “I thought, well, this was your idea really, wasn’t it? You Sensed someone’s magic in the Moria Library, didn’t you? If you suspect that person is Bolg, surely you can confirm it if you can Sense Bolg’s magic and they feel the same.”

Kíli felt like he could kick himself for forgetting that. How could he be so thick? But then did that mean… “But I’m sure it was Bolg. How come I can’t feel his magic?”

“Maybe it’s not him,” Ori said quietly. “There are so many Orcs in the Misty Mountains that it’s quite unlikely that it was Bolg when you come to think of it. Maybe it was just some curious young Orc who you stumbled upon. They might not even mean any harm.”

Gimli snorted. “Right. And Blast-Ended Skrewts make cuddly pets. You’re way too naive and trusting, Ori. But it is strange that Kíli can’t Sense Bolg now. I mean, it’s not that surprising because Bolg’s probably got enough magical ability of a troll. But if that’s the case, he can’t be the one spying on Kíli in the Moria Library.”

Despite Fíli’s silence, Kíli knew that his friend was thinking along the same line as Gimli. He had to admit that it made sense. After all, it was not like magic could just disappear, could it?

“I’ll need to look into that,” Fíli said when Kíli voiced his question with uncertainty. “I’ve never heard of it before but you never know. In any case, it will help us know one way or the other.”

Smiling at his friend gratefully, Kíli almost did not mind the next thing Fíli said. “Since we can’t know for sure, let’s just go back and focus on our homework now. We’ve got no time to lose.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Due to the unprecedented heavy workload, Kíli did not get to talk to Tauriel properly until Friday night. He did make a point to always greet Tauriel whenever he bumped into her. As a result, the students, at least the Gryffindors, had slowly warmed up towards their Quidditch Captain again. The increasingly bright smile on Tauriel’s face made Kíli feel so exhilarated that all his concerns about his friendship with Tauriel had vanished. Instead, he was more than looking forward to the start of the Quidditch season, which he was sure would provide an excellent distraction from his now monotonous days.

“Hey, Kíli.” Tauriel beamed at him when he and Fíli sat next to her at the Gryffindor table. “We have our first practice tomorrow morning. Can you make it?”

“Of course!” Kíli said without any hesitation. “Aren’t we having a tryout this year though?”

Tauriel shook her head. “No one’s graduating this year so we’re not making any changes to the team, not even to Cormac,” she said firmly at Kíli’s raised eyebrows. “Our only hope is the new second-years because they could not try out last year. I’ve talked to Professor Bard about them. He reckons that none of them is up for the task. So Cormac is still our best bet.”

“Brilliant,” Kíli rolled his eyes, “we’re doomed.”

Perhaps it was in the Quidditch Captain handbook that the Captain had to look optimistic no matter what, but Tauriel was showing no sign of dismay. “Not really. If he can play as he did in the last match before summer, we stand a reasonably good chance. I think he’s really changed.”

“Yet he still chased Angelina across half the castle until she hexed him.” Lindir plopped on the seat to the other side of Tauriel and grinned. “It was a brilliant jinx by the way. I particularly enjoyed seeing McLaggen sprouting antennae out of his forehead. Makes him look much more intelligent.”

Outside Gryffindor, Lindir was one of the few who treated Tauriel the same way before and after the disaster last year. This alone had redeemed Lindir’s image in Kíli’s opinion, no matter how much ridiculous gossip he would spread.

Tauriel shook her head. “That’s typical Cormac for you but seriously, he’s changed. I’m sure this year will be different for us.”

Kíli was not so certain but he did not have the heart to wipe the smile off Tauriel’s face. So he simply nodded. After all, Quidditch never mattered that much to him like it did Gimli or Lindir. Speaking of Lindir, “how’s the Ravenclaw team looking this year? Are you hosting tryouts?”

“Spying much, aren’t you?” smirked Lindir. “We’re not changing the starting lineup this year so good luck with your hope of winning the Cup.”

Frankly, Kíli agreed with Lindir. With McLaggen on their team, he felt that the only way Gryffindor could win was if Roger Davis finally snapped because of his long unrequited love for Cho and cursed Lindir into next week right before the Gryffindor Ravenclaw match. Yet he wisely chose to remain silent.

The Quidditch discussion was interrupted by Gimli’s arrival, along with a faint whiff of smoke and dung.

“Professor Dáin’s officially lost his marbles,” Gimli practically wailed. “I’ve just spent the last two hours trying to put out a fire in his cabin. He’s keeping the baby dragon in his cabin, which is made out of wood! Honestly! Does he have a death wish?”

“I thought that’s common knowledge,” Lindir sneered. “It must be the prerequisite of being a Care of Magical Creatures professor. The more violent the death, the better.”

“Hey!” cried Gimli indignantly. “I like magical creatures but I’m not insane. There’s a difference.”

“Was Ori helping you?” Fíli looked around. When he did not spot his bookworm friend, his voice became laced with concern. “Is he still with Professor Dáin?”

“I wish he was!” said Gimli. “It would make my life easier. Professor Dáin was absolutely useless because he wasted all his energy cooing the baby. No, Ori just stopped by after the situation was contained. He needed to get some dragon dung for Professor Bilbo. They’re working on some kind of project I think. They must still be at the Green House.”

To take on an extra project during the O.W.L. year looked like nothing short of sheer madness to Kíli but it was Ori after all. Nobody else seemed that surprised by the news either. Lindir and Tauriel were back to their Quidditch debate, which was soon joined by Gimli. Fíli, on the other hand, was reading a heavy-looking book while eating.

“Honestly, Fi,” Kíli said exasperatedly, “it’s Friday night. We’ve worked hard all week and we deserve a break. Surely your precious homework can wait until tomorrow.”

“Easy for you to say,” said Fíli without even looking up, “I barely did any homework last night because I had to patrol the castle. I need to catch up now.”

Kíli perked up at once. “How was that? Anything exciting happened? Did you dock points from anyone?”

This time Fíli finally put the book down. “Not really. It was a bit awkward with Ylva at first, you know, with Gimli and everything. But it got much better afterwards and we started talking. She’s quite a fun person to talk to actually and almost knows as much gossip as Lindir. According to Ylva, Eira’s dating Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot now.”

The news hardly came as a surprise since Kíli knew that Dáin’s son had had a crush on Eira for the longest time. Yet he could not explain the sudden feeling of pure bliss in his heart upon hearing this. “Really? That’s wonderful. Good for Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot! He’s had the hots for her for ages.”

Fíli laughed. “Indeed he has. Needless to say Professor Dáin’s very pleased with this new development too. He’s usually more relaxed about things like this but Thorin is his only son and Eira comes from such a nice family. It’s quite rare for a love match to be so advantageous to both families too.”

Fighting the urge to say that political matches were bonkers, Kíli asked the other question on his mind. “How does your uncle take this news?”

Fíli suddenly lowered his eyes and looked sheepish. “Uncle doesn’t know it yet. In fact, he may or may not still be under the impression that I’m still going out with Eira.”

The happy bubble inside burst just as quickly as it was formed. “What?”

“I never got the chance to tell him!” Fíli said defensively, now finally meeting Kíli’s eyes. “And honestly, I think it’s better for uncle to do nothing because he still thinks everything is going to plan rather than for him to either fly off the handle or try to set me up with someone else. I really could do without the distraction and drama, well, ever but this year in particular.”

Kíli could hardly argue with that. Logically, it was the easiest thing to do. Kíli was certain that all hell would break loose if Thorin, who seemed hell-bent on arranging a politically advantageous marriage for Fíli, knew the truth. Yet he could not help but feel disheartened by Fíli’s trickery. Maybe it was because Fíli had always been so honourable and trustworthy that Kíli could not imagine his best friend ever being untruthful. Yes, that must be it. “Well, if you think it’s best. Does your mum know?”

Fíli shrugged. “I doubt she knows about Eira and Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot. I only found out today. But apparently, they had started spending more time together during the summer. It seemed that Eira was in need of some support after our, well,” Fíli blushed again, “Thorin was of course more than forthcoming with his help. The friendly get-togethers soon morphed into something more. According to Ylva, her cousin was very, er, passionate.”

Kíli sniggered. Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot had, it seemed, inherited his father’s enthusiasm, which was thankfully bestowed upon a worthier subject. “I bet Thorin’s over the moon about his new relationship.”

“He’s not the only one overjoyed by this. His mother was beside herself with jubilation, according to Ylva anyway.”

“Hang on,” said Kíli slowly, “if both Eira and Thorin’s parents know, won’t they tell your uncle?”

“Of course not!” Fíli looked scandalised. “They’re all civilised people from proper families. Of course they will not gloat over uncle’s misfortune. That’s just unseemly. No, they would remain silent out of respect for uncle until the day of their engagement.”

Choking on his pumpkin juice, Kíli coughed violently for a good two minutes before he gasped. “Engagement?!”

The look on Fíli’s face was most peculiar. It was as if he was fighting off the urge not to roll his eyes or face-plant into his soup. “Yes, engagement. What else do you think is going to happen? They’d just go out for fun but never settle down? Of course they’ll get engaged, probably within the next two years. Most Pureblood families want their children to marry right after Hogwarts.”

“Most Pureblood families are mental,” mumbled Kíli. “Engaged when you’re 16? Honestly!”

“Elves are not much better.” Lindir’s voice made both Fíli and Kíli jump. “Most families try to arrange a suitable match for their children when they’re still in school. Complete bonkers if you ask me. But then again, not everyone’s like that. Professor Elrond never forces his children into something they don’t want. Arwen and Aragorn are still not engaged and they don’t plan to until both are done with their training. The evil twins have never had even one girlfriend between them when they graduated but Professor Elrond let them be. Well, it’s possible that he’s simply given up. I mean, who in their right mind wants to marry the evil twins?”

Both Fíli and Kíli laughed. As much as Kíli liked the evil twins, he had to concede that Lindir made a valid point. It did not surprise him that Professor Elrond was a lot more liberal than most. He could hardly imagine someone like Thranduil doing the same favour by his son. “So Legolas has his fate written for him already?”

Lindir smirked. “Oh, dear Leggy has no choice of his own when it comes to his future. Thranduil has not secured a marriage contract for Legolas but that’s purely because the narcissistic git thinks everyone else is inferior and thus unsuitable for his precious Legolas. But I reckon Legolas’s good days are numbered. I’ll be very surprised if Thranduil doesn’t come up with at least some names by the end of this school year.”

The first name that popped into Kíli’s head was Tauriel. He could still remember that it was Legolas who almost went to the Yule Ball with Tauriel. The fact that they grew up together surely helped matters. Even though he had no intention of badgering Tauriel about it just to satisfy his curiosity, Kíli could not help but shoot a glance at Tauriel. 

“Thranduil will never let me touch his precious Legolas,” Tauriel said with a grin, which made Kíli blush. It seemed that he was just as an open book as before. “My blood is not pure enough for Thranduil.”

“But Legolas asked you to the Yule Ball.” Now that Tauriel had brought up the subject, Kíli felt more comfortable talking about it.

Tauriel shrugged. “It was just a ball, nothing serious. Besides, Legolas only asked me because he wasn’t interested in anyone else while I’m the only tolerable option because we grew up together.”

Somehow, Kíli seriously doubted that. He was, however, not surprised by Tauriel’s impression. Purebloods, it seemed, were utterly clueless when it comes to their feelings. Legolas was not nicknamed the Ice Prince amongst the girls for nothing. 

“But if Legolas does one day show genuine interest in pursuing a serious relationship with me,” Tauriel continued, “I bet you anything that Thranduil will personally come to the castle to throw me off the Astronomy Tower.”

“Don’t mind the old git. He’s gone senile ages ago,” Lindir said bracingly. “You can do so much better than a spoilt brat like Legolas.”

If Lindir was expecting gratitude from Tauriel, he was sorely mistaken. On the contrary, Tauriel looked mildly affronted. “Legolas’s not that bad. Yes, he might be a bit, you know, arrogant. But deep down he’s not a bad person.”

“Still,” Lindir said with a shrug, “you don’t fancy him and he’s Thranduil’s son.” He said the word as if it was the worst disease in the world. “Imagine being Thranduil’s daughter-in-law.”

“What about you?” Kíli asked. “Does your family support your relationship with Cho? She’s not an Elf, after all.”

Lindir smirked. “Oh, my parents have no choice but to accept. I told them that if they don’t, I’d run away from home, live in a tree in the Forbidden Forest, and breed Blast-Ended Skrewts for a living. Since I’m the only child and my parents aren’t Professor Dáin, they relented in the end. It helps that Cho is from a Pureblood family, even though she is a Man. I doubt my parents would be so amiable if she’s a Muggleborn. Total bonkers if you ask me but what can we do.”

All this discussion about relationships and marriages was making Kíli nervous. He now realised how hierarchical the Wizarding World was, which made him wonder if he could ever change the disadvantages his birth and upbringing had brought him. Would someone even want to hire him regardless of his grades? Even if he could get a respectable job, would any family want to marry their daughters to him? He doubted that being Fíli or Gimli’s best friend would help matters in this regard. No matter how close he was to Fíli’s family, he was not part of the family. Perhaps Fíli and Gimli’s situations were not that undesirable after all.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Kíli woke up the next morning, he felt so grateful it was the weekend that he did not want to leave the comfort of his bed. Yet that was a luxury not to be had, for Gimli was up the moment the first sunlight peeked into their dormitory.

“Come on, Kíli! It’s Quidditch practice today!” Gimli was so excited that he practically jumped on Kíli, who let out a squeak. “You don’t want to be the last one at the pitch, do you? I mean, look at the weather! It’s perfect for flying!”

Despite being squished, Kíli could not fight off a grin at Gimli’s effusive joy. “Fine. Just give me a moment so I can at least get dressed.”

When Kíli finally arrived at the Great Hall, all the Gryffindor team members were there already, all with unadulterated excitement written plainly on their faces. Even Cormac McLaggen looked more pleasant this time, despite the fact that he was still eyeing Angelina Johnson furtively every now and then. At least he was antennae free, which was quite a relief. Kíli doubted he could pay any attention to the Snitch if McLaggen still had them on.

“Right, team,” said Tauriel when everyone had finished eating breakfast, “we’re going to train harder than ever before this year! You all know that quite a few of us are graduating Hogwarts this year. So this is our last chance at the Quidditch Cup. Let’s end it all not with a murmur but with a bang!”

This reminded Kíli of something from the previous year. As everyone was leaving for the changing room, he caught up with Tauriel and asked in a low voice, which turned out to be quite unnecessary for ahead of them Cormac had captured everyone’s attention by attempting to get closer to Angelina, who retaliated by hitting him with a Tarantallegra.

“Er,” momentarily distracted by the rather entertaining scene of a dancing Cormac in front of him, Kíli almost lost his train of thoughts. “Right. How was Puddlemere United? Did you get to try out for their reserve team?”

The smile on Tauriel’s face disappeared at the question, which made Kíli’s heart sink. “Not really. The weeks after the final match were just mental. I was so preoccupied and distracted that I completely missed the tryout as a result.”

The bubble of guilt in Kíli’s heart had just grown to the size of Switzerland upon hearing this. Not only had he ditched Tauriel while blaming her unfairly for Azog’s crime, but he had also ruined Tauriel’s best chance at a career. “Oh, no!”

“Not everything’s lost though,” added Tauriel quickly at the stricken look on Kíli’s face. “They are not happy with the tryout results before the summer so they have decided to postpone the decision. I’ve got another chance at the end of this year. Well, that is if I keep my form this year. The scouts will come at the final matches to hand out invitations, this time a tryout for a spot on the first team!”

Sighing with relief, Kíli beamed at Tauriel. “They would be a fool not to pick you. You’re seriously one of the best Chasers I’ve seen. Besides, if Cormac has changed as you said, we even stand a good chance at winning the Cup.”

“That’s what I’m banking on,” Tauriel said with a smile. “I’m going to have a word with both Angelina and Cormac though. I won’t have my team messed up again because of some stupid hormonal issues.”

Whether Tauriel’s prep talk with Angelina and Cormac had worked or not, the practice that day was one of the best they had ever had. Just like Tauriel had said, Cormac was no longer strutting around, criticising everyone. Instead, he was focused on his job, goalkeeping, something he was surprisingly good at. As a result, the team spirit was bolstered and they flew better than they had ever done. Kíli had never seen Tauriel so pleased after a practice session before.

“Well done, team! If we keep this up, nobody can stop us from getting our hands on the Quidditch Cup. I’m so proud of you all!”

“Never thought I’d live to see the day that Cormac decides to pull his overinflated head out of his admittedly fine arse.” Gimli’s rather casual comment almost made Kíli choke on his saliva.

“Honestly, Gim!”

“What?” Gimli had the audacity to look completely innocent. “Please don’t tell me you’re scared of arse. That’s the best part of…”

“Okay, I really don’t want to know,” said Kíli firmly, “especially said part of Cormac McLaggen. I can’t believe you find him attractive.”

Gimli shrugged. “That’s not what I said but I don’t disagree. He’s quite fit if you’re into the whole cocky swagger thing.”

The statement was so astounding that Kíli did not even know which to start, the fact that the subject of their discussion was Cormac McLaggen or that Gimli found men’s bottoms attractive. “He’s a bloke. What’s worse, he’s Cormac McLaggen!”

“I know he’s got the personality of a Ghoul but a fit bloke is a fit bloke.” Gimli did not seem at all perturbed by it. “What’s wrong with that?”

Kíli opened his mouth and closed it. He was not sure how to discuss this without sounding offensive. It was not that he was homophobic. But being gay was still quite a big deal, at least in the Muggle world. He simply could not understand Gimli’s rather cavalier attitude towards it. Or did he misread this situation entirely? “So you’d go out with him if the opportunity presents itself?”

“Now I wouldn’t go that far,” Gimli said. “He’s not my cup of tea. I mean, if you’re going to be a cocky prick, at least have something to back it up. Look at McLaggen, he was rubbish at Quidditch until he’s decided not to be such a git.”

“But if he’s not such an unpleasant person?” Kíli pressed on.

Gimli sniggered. “I thought that’s part of who McLaggen is.”

“Hypothetically speaking.”

“Well, I might.” Gimli shrugged. “He’s easy on the eye so might as well give it a try and see where it goes. At least we’ve got some common interests like Quidditch. Talking to him must be a lot more fun than those stilted conversations with Ylva that I had to endure.”

Fíli was sitting at the Ravenclaw table when Kíli and Gimli got back to the Great Hall for lunch. While Gimli was still eager to discuss Quidditch with the rest of the Gryffindor team, Kíli felt his burning urge to talk to Fíli about his previous conversation with Gimli.

“Hey, how was practice?” Fíli’s smile faded at the concentrated look on Kíli’s face. “Blimey, what’s wrong?”

“I,” Kíli did not know how to broach the subject delicately so he opted for the blunt attack method. “I think Gimli’s gay.”

Fíli’s raised eyebrows were not exactly the reaction Kíli was expecting, though it confirmed his suspicion. Homosexuality did not seem to be such a taboo topic in the Wizarding World. “That’s news to me but I guess it’s not that surprising. I’m never under the impression that he’s into girls, which,” he snorted, “is probably a big relief for the girls.”

“But, he likes blokes!” Kíli insisted, just to make sure that Fíli understood the implication behind Gimli’s choices. “Isn’t it a big deal?”

His eyebrows travelling even further up, Fíli said, “Not really, especially not for Dwarf lads. There are so few Dwarf lassies around that it is very likely that a Dwarf wizard will end up single. Surely it’s more preferable not to spend the rest of your life alone, albeit with someone of the same sex.”

This was something Kíli had never really thought about. Even though he had noticed the disparate number of Dwarf wizards and witches, he had not made the connection of this situation with the implication to the Dwarven marital traditions. “But what about children? If most of the Dwarves don’t get married, they won’t have kids. Won’t the families and even the race die out in the end?”

Fíli sighed, “That has been a serious concern of many Dwarves, especially those in a position to lead the people, like uncle, for quite some time. To compound the problem, the birth rate has been dwindling, which has manifested itself in all the races but is particularly profound for Dwarves. We still make up the majority of the Wizarding world because Elves procreate even less than we do. But this is changing and we’re in serious trouble. You’ll notice that compared to the previous generation, Dwarves my age rarely have siblings.”

Now that Fíli had mentioned it, Kíli realised that it was true. The only exception he knew was Ori, who had two elder brothers. Kíli supposed they were more of an anomaly since Dori and Nori were both old enough to belong to the previous generation. “So if the only child stays single, or is gay, or childless from the marriage, the family name ends with them.”

“Yes,” Fíli said. “But when you look at the well-known Dwarf families, even having more than one child is no guarantee for the continuation of the family name. Take Professor Dwalin and Balin as an example, both of them will most likely remain single for the rest of their lives. Once they have sailed West, the name Fundinson will be here no more. It is a fear shared by many Dwarf families. As much as we are tolerant of different sexual orientations, I suspect Gimli will face an uphill battle with his father if he chooses not to engage himself with the fairer sex.”

“Will that be the same for you?” Kíli could not help but wonder. Would Fíli be forced to marry and procreate to continue his family name and his uncle’s legacy, regardless of his own wishes?

Fíli opened his mouth and closed it. “I, you know I’ll have no problem with mum. She only wants me to be happy. But uncle is a different story and frankly, this is not something I have or ever want to discuss with him. Knowing him though, surely there are some expectations on me to produce not one but two heirs so both family names can be preserved.”

“This is crazy!” cried Kíli passionately. “You can’t control how many kids you have! Why don’t you marry Muggleborns? You notice more of them around.”

“Many are afraid that marrying them will dilute the magical blood,” Fíli explained. “After all, Men only become magical through marrying other magical beings like Elves. When a magical being produces a child with a Muggle, there’s a chance the offspring may turn out to be a Squib. If the child is lucky enough to be magical, they most likely will choose to marry another magical being to preserve the magic in their blood. You can find copious amounts of Elf blood in all the Pureblood families of Men.”

“That’s precisely the problem! I mean, look at the Pureblood families! Everyone’s related somehow. Surely all this inbreeding is causing the problem. Yet Dwarves are still determined to marry only Dwarves even at the risk of extinguishing the entire race!”

“When you say inbreeding is causing all these problems...” Fíli frowned.

“Of course!” Kíli could not believe his ears. “This is common sense! All Muggles know that. You’re not supposed to marry your cousins for precisely this reason. I mean, I don’t understand the science behind it but you can find loads of scientific publications on the topic. I can’t believe wizards don’t know about it!”

“Well, we, we just thought that the purer the blood, the more likely the child will preserve the magic in the blood.”

“Bollocks.” Kíli almost laughed. “The only things you’ll get from inter-marrying are hereditary diseases and mental instabilities. A lot of the Muggle royal families in history started out okay but turned bonkers later because of that. Honestly, go find a Muggle biology book and read about it.”

“I will!” Fíli said firmly. “It is time we change this Pureblood nonsense anyway. People are more likely to change if something threatens their existence. We need to save the Dwarves and all the wizarding families yet we are at our wit's end. In this case, we might as well start with Muggle biology.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stress can make people act out of character. For once, it would be down to Kíli to sooth things for Fíli.

The first month of school passed in a blur. The amount of homework set by their professors had reached an alarming state that even Bolg and his Slytherin troll friends could be spotted regularly in the library. Kíli would have attributed it all to their professors’ suddenly sadistic tendencies to see them suffer, had he not received the grades for his first Potions essay in the second week of class.

“The quality of the essay is simply abysmal.” Thorin’s scowl was so severe that it rivalled the ones he used to sport in Kíli’s first year. “Most of you would have failed had this been your O.W.L. paper. The level of understanding, or the lack thereof, of the properties of Moonstone is staggering. You will see your individual marks,” Legolas passed Kíli’s essay to him without a further look, “which should likely resemble your grades in your Potions O.W.L. unless you put in a significant amount of extra effort to improve it. I expect much more from this week’s Potions essay and assignment.”

A large angry red letter ‘P’ adorned the top of Kíli’s Potions essay. Feeling slightly confused, he turned over to peak at Fíli’s, which sported a happy-looking ‘E’.

“What do these grades even mean?” Kíli whispered as Legolas was passing more essays to the rest of the class. “Why can’t he just give marks like he usually does?”

“These were the grades of O.W.L.s,” said Fíli in an equally low voice. “O is the highest grade one can get, which stands for Outstanding. The next one is E, Exceeds Expectations, followed by A, Acceptable. All those are pass grades. You’ve also got P for Poor, D for Dreadful, and T for Troll.”

So worried was he about his failing grade that Kíli forgot to even find amusement in the wizards’ strange tastes in grades assignment. He could not be failing Potions. It was such an important topic that a N.E.W.T. in Potions was required for almost all the most sought-after jobs. Thorin, unlike most of the other professors, would not accept any N.E.W.T. students in his classroom with anything other than an O. He only wanted the best. The red P on Kíli’s paper seemed a long way from the O he so desperately needed. He could only imagine the look on Thorin’s face if he got a P or something worse in his Potions O.W.L., provided that he managed to survive Thorin’s wraths to tell the tale.

As if reading Kíli’s mind, Fíli said bracingly, “This is only your first essay of the year and uncle’s being particularly strict because he wants to give us a warning of what is to come. You’ve still got a whole year to improve. I’m sure you’ll get a good enough grade when O.W.L. actually comes.”

“From a P to an O?” Kíli did not believe it himself but he reckoned it was worth a try. “I’ll really need your help, mate.”

“Of course! I’ll do whatever I can to help!” Fíli said without any hesitation. “Whatever you need, just say the word and I’ll do it. We’ll make it happen, Kíli. I have complete and utter confidence in you.”

As much as he appreciated Fíli’s unwavering support, Kíli quickly came to regret his earlier request. Ever since then, Fíli seemed hell-bent on making sure that Kíli lived in the library every single second, except when he was in classes of course. Kíli’s only breaks, apart from Gryffindor Quidditch practices, were Fíli’s patrolling duties, which, to Fíli’s great annoyance, took up a lot of his time.

“I never realised Prefects have to spend such an inordinate amount of time patrolling the castle,” complained Fíli during dinner one late October evening, which was such an unusual occurrence that everyone in the vicinity stopped their eating and conversation to stare at Fíli. “Two nights a week! How are we supposed to set a good example and study for our O.W.L.s when we barely have time to set foot in the library?”

“You just spent almost 40 hours in the library last week,” Gimli deadpanned. “I’d say both of your feet are firmly in the library. But I do agree with you. The patrolling duties are simply mental. How can we keep it up with Quidditch season starting soon? And Galion’s always late in sending out the schedule! I had to ask Tauriel to reschedule our practice this Tuesday because I didn’t get informed until two days before. To say that Tauriel wasn’t best pleased probably qualifies as the understatement of the year.”

Fíli frowned. “Tuesday? But I was patrolling with Ylva on Tuesday. I thought Legolas was patrolling with us that night because I bumped into him on my way back.”

“What?” Gimli nearly choked on his food. “You can’t be serious! Bain and I spent an entire evening slaving away guarding the castle, granted that the conversation about Quidditch was simply stimulating, and you’re telling me we didn’t have to?”

“Actually,” Lindir joined the conversation seamlessly as he always did, “now that you mentioned it, twice a week does sound like a lot for patrolling duties. I never remember it being so much. Roger only had to do it once a week last year, which was a real pity because I’m getting sick of the tosser. I mean, Head Boy and Girl are supposed to patrol twice while you’ve still got 24 Prefects. Two pairs are needed each night. When you do the maths, you only need to do it once a week.”

Fíli’s face turned red, together with his eyes, though the latter might be induced purely by the lack of sleep. “What in the name of Mahal’s saggy pants is the matter with Galion? He’s the one in charge of the patrolling schedule and he’s making us… in our O.W.L. year… I’m going to see him right now!”

“Blimey.” Gimli shook his head. “Fíli’s finally lost the plot. Can’t say I’m surprised. He must be suffering from Library-itis.”

“From what?” Kíli was sure he must have misheard Gimli.

“Being cooped up too long in the library,” Gimli said with a shrug as if that was the most natural thing in the world. “The dust from the books, not to mention the dark magic some of them possesses, are bound to get you ill. Ori’s the only one immune because he grew up in the Library with Mister Dori,” he ignored Ori’s indignant ‘hey’ and continued, “but the rest of us mere mortals cannot fend for ourselves in the presence of those powerfully evil books.”

Even though Kíli was fairly certain Gimli was simply taking the mickey, he wanted to confirm with Fíli because one never knows with the Magical world. Yet that option was unavailable to him right now for Fíli was otherwise occupied. His voice, for example, could be heard from the Hufflepuff table.

“... and utterly inconceivable! How could you let such a glaring mistake happen? You’re Head Boy for Mahal’s sake! How can we trust you with our safety when you cannot even handle a simple patrolling schedule? How many more hours would we have wasted had I not come to confront you? This is completely and utterly unaccept…”

“Thank you, Mister Arken, for your insightful opinion.” Professor Gandalf had risen from his seat at the Staff table. Next to him, the seats of Professor Elrond and Professor Bilbo were both empty as the Heads of Fíli and Galion’s Houses were on their way to remedy the unfortunate situation. Lindir whistled gleefully while the rest of the Great Hall fell silent. Kíli chanced a look at Thorin and found the stormy expression on Thorin’s face not entirely surprising. “Would you be so kind to follow Professor Elrond and Professor Bilbo to the Staffroom? You too, Galion, if you don’t mind.”

The silence that followed only lasted a few seconds yet it felt so deafening to Kíli that he could not stand it. What was worse was the chattering that came back with a vengeance. It seemed that everyone in the Great Hall was eager to discuss the uncharacteristic outburst from the normally collected Fíli, which baffled Kíli since he thought that Galion’s blunder was much more serious. Maybe it was his imagination, but Kíli could swear that people were more gleeful than concerned. “What’s wrong with people? Galion is the one who made the mistake, not Fíli! He’s Head Boy but he can’t even assign patrol duties properly. Fíli’s absolutely right! How can we trust him with more important things? But everyone’s on Galion’s side!”

“People love some good gossip.” Lindir stroked his chin, looking unusually sage. “Moreover, they love to see the mighty fall. Fíli has been a model student, polite, hardworking, bright, kind, basically perfect in every way. Believe it or not, most people don’t like that. It makes them feel inadequate. Galion, on the other hand, is the bumbling fool that everyone can relate to, who’s under attack from the perfect Fíli. It’s natural that people are rooting for the underdog and the perceived victim.”

“Well, they won’t be so happy when their safety is compromised because of Galion’s stupid mistakes,” Kíli contested hotly. “It’ll serve them right then!”

Lindir shrugged. “And it will. I’m not disputing your logic, Kíli, merely pointing out what goes through people’s minds.”

“What’s going to happen to Fíli?” Ori craned his neck to try to get a better look at the Staff Table, his face full of concern. Kíli could not blame him. Apart from the punishment Fíli would undoubtedly suffer from Professor Gandalf, Kíli feared that whatever Thorin had in store for Fíli would only be ten times worse, if the stormy look on his Potions Master’s face was anything to go by.

Gimli, on the other hand, resumed stuffing his face without a care in the world. “Nothing serious, I’m sure. Fíli’s their golden boy and honestly, can anyone blame him for losing his shit? Galion is a gormless git who can’t find his own balls without a map if he wants a wank.”

“Gimli!” Ori nearly choked on his sausages while Lindir roared with laughter.

“What?” The innocent look on Gimli’s face was too perfect to be genuine. Kíli always wondered if Gimli was being crass on purpose just to wind people up. “You know it’s true. Surely Professor Gandalf can see that too. There’s no way they’ll really punish Fíli for that. A couple of points and maybe a detention max.”

As it turned out, Gimli was not that far from the truth. When Fíli finally met up with them in the library, he looked a lot calmer and only slightly upset.

“What happened? Is everything alright? Did you get into much trouble?”

“I’m fine, Kíli.” Fíli gave Kíli a small smile. “Professor Gandalf gave me a stern talking to, nothing that I don’t deserve if I’m honest. Professor Elrond was pretty upset about my appalling behaviour too. I honestly don’t know what came over me!”

“You were upset and you have every right to be!” Kíli cried hotly. “Nothing you’ve said is wrong!”

“I shouldn’t have done it the way I did,” Fíli sighed. “Instead of discussing this with Galion in private, like a rational human being, I lashed out and made a spectacle of myself and him.”

“But he made a stupid mis…”

“I should have given him a chance to explain himself,” said Fíli firmly. “Everyone makes mistakes, often for different reasons. I should have talked to him to see if I can help. Instead, I just exploded.”

“It’s the pressure, mate,” Gimli patted Fíli on the back consolingly. “You’re working too hard so you just cracked. Honestly, you and Ori need to relax. You’ve got your nose stuck in the textbook while he’s away with the fairies in the Green Houses. I know this is a critical year but if you don’t chill, you’ll implode.”

Despite Gimli’s usual crude demeanour, Kíli had to admit that his friend often had a pretty accurate grasp on things. Fíli’s anxiety this year was not unlike what he had experienced in their third year when the added workload nearly crippled his best friend. “Gimli’s right, Fíli. You don’t usually act like this.”

Fíli slumped on his seat next to Kíli and rubbed his face tiredly. “I guess you’re right. I just feel the need to do well, both in terms of O.W.L.s and my Prefect duties. This is the first time I’m in a leadership position. I want to prove that I can do well and that I am more than just a swot, that I deserve everything I’ve got not just because I’m uncle’s heir. The pressure must have got to me.”

Even though Kíli did not wish to broach the topic, he felt that he needed to because it was inevitable that it would come up. “How’s your uncle’s reaction to this?”

Fíli grimaced. “I haven’t talked to him yet. Frankly, I’m not looking forward to that conversation. It’s bound to be very unpleasant. I suppose he’s quite disappointed in me.”

“Then he’s a fool!” Kíli said firmly. “As you’ve said yourself, everyone makes mistakes! This was just a slip up when you were under enormous pressure. He can’t seriously be angry with you because of this!”

The look on Fíli’s face told Kíli plainly that he thought otherwise. Making a mental note to himself, Kíli decided to talk to Thorin about this whenever he had the chance. He was not going to let Thorin put Fíli under even more stress, which, now that Gimli had pointed out, was the cause of it all. He would make Thorin see reason.

With the plan in mind, Kíli did not return to the Gryffindor Tower with Gimli after they had left the library. Feigning that he had forgotten his book, he asked Gimli to go ahead without him. Once he was alone, Kíli took out the Marauder’s map and checked. The coast seemed clear. Alfrid was down at the kitchen, to terrorise the House Elves or to nick food Kíli did not know. Gandalf was in his office with Lady Galadriel, possibly to discuss something of great importance. It was apparently Dwalin’s turn to patrol tonight, for he was up in Ravenclaw Tower. Mister Lock was surprisingly in the Slytherin Common Room with, Kíli bent down to double-check, Bolg and Legolas. This bizarre friendship between Bolg and Alfrid’s familiar had puzzled Kíli before, which only increased the longer it went on. But he had more important matters to worry about now. Thorin was alone in his office, which was what Kíli was hoping for.

Knocking tentatively at the heavy wooden door, Kíli waited anxiously outside Thorin’s office while he tried to compose his thoughts. In all honesty, he had come to see his Potions professor on a whim. Now that he was here, Kíli had no idea what he was going to say to Thorin. The fact that he was breaking school rules by staying out past curfew did nothing to calm his nerves.

“What in the name of…” Thorin’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his thick mane of dark hair when he saw Kíli. “What are you doing here, Kíli?”

“I…” The more he thought about it, the more foolish the idea seemed to him. But Kíli had no choice. He was already here. “Can I come in?”

After a long searching look, Thorin finally nodded and stepped aside to let Kíli in.

“So,” Thorin said the moment he closed the door, “can you tell me what is going on now?”

Kíli fidgeted in front of the sofa but he did not dare take a seat. “I, well, I mean…” The unimpressed look on Thorin’s face finally prompted him into action. “You can’t blame Fíli for what happened earlier today. He’s feeling so guilty about it already!”

A fleeting look of surprise crossed Thorin’s face before it hardened. “Fíli’s behaviour today has been frankly appalling. Never have I dreamt in my wildest imagination that he would act in this manner, which is completely unacceptable and extremely unbefitting of his station. I thought I had taught him better than this. He has brought shame to not only himself but also the family. I cannot simply let this go unpunished.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Kíli cried, “Is that all you care about, the family name? Fíli’s just a kid like me! In fact, he’s practically a saint compared to the majority of us. He has the right to lose his temper every once in a while. This is our O.W.L. year and he’s under a lot of pressure. I think he’s allowed to crack.”

Thorin was unmoved, however. “He’s a Prefect and more importantly my heir. If he cannot simply handle the pressure of some exams, how can you expect him to lead our people in times of dire need?”

“But it’s not just the pressure of the exams,” Kíli argued. “Can’t you see? The pressure comes from Fíli’s desire to make you proud! He’s desperate to prove himself to you and everyone. The last thing he wants is to disappoint you. But your standard is so high that nobody can achieve it without going mental.”

“It doesn’t matter where the pressure stems from.” Thorin waved his hand, looking resolutely unconcerned. “It is something that he must learn to deal with. I stand by my opinion. The stress from the real world makes all these schoolboy troubles seem incredibly trivial. If he can’t handle this…”

“He’s only 15!” Kíli could not believe Thorin. “What do you expect? Haven’t you done one stupid thing when you were 15? How can you be this hard on Fíli for losing his temper when you’re surly yourself like that all the time?”

Taking a step back as if burnt, Thorin’s veneer of calm finally cracked, which made Kíli regret his choice of words immediately. He had never seen Thorin looking so vulnerable before, even though his Potions Master soon schooled his face to its usual scowling state. “I didn’t mean…”

“I think you’ve said quite enough, Mister Durin.” Thorin’s voice was cold and firm. “It is getting late and you should return to your dormitory.”

“I…” Kíli did not know what to do. His survival instinct was telling him to run now before the Thorin volcano erupted. Deeper down, however, his heart told him that he would ruin something truly precious if he turned his back on Thorin now. Taking a deep breath, Kíli took a step closer to Thorin and looked at him straight in the eyes. “I apologise for what I’ve just said. That was mean and uncalled for. I was trying to defend Fíli so I’ve just, well, lost it a bit. But that’s not what I think of you at all.” He could sense Thorin tensing before relaxing minutely, which he took as a good sign as he carried on bravely. “You’ve been through so much in your life that I can’t even imagine what it is like. Any lesser wizard would have cracked a long time ago. I know I would have. Yet you still fight on, for your family and your people, which is amazing.” Kíli took a deep breath before he said the next part. “But the situation with Fíli is different and I won’t change my mind. He’s still young and he’s only a student. He will grow to be a great wizard just like you one day. You know why? Because Fíli cares, deeply. What he needs right now is not a stern talking-to from you, which will only add to his distress and guilt. Instead, he needs your support. You’re the one person he looks up to the most!”

After a pregnant pause, Thorin finally sighed, “I see your point. Very well, I shall refrain from chastising Fíli too harshly this time. But I must speak to him about it. It would be unnatural if I do not. I understand that Fíli is fully aware of the consequences of his actions but I value communications with my nephew so we shall discuss this openly and calmly.”

Beaming brightly, Kíli almost jumped into the air with glee. “Thank you so much, sir! This is all I ask for!”

Thorin nodded. Kíli thought he might have imagined it but he could swear he caught a glimpse of a smile on Thorin’s face. “Very well, I am glad to be of service. As stimulating as this conversation is, I must insist that you return to your dormitory immediately. We both have classes tomorrow morning and I’d like to retire to my chamber if you don’t mind.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As it happened, Kíli’s first class the next day was Potions. The moment Kíli sat down next to Fíli, he could tell that his friend was extremely nervous. Not only was he fidgeting, an act so unusual for Fíli that even Gimli noticed it, Fíli also looked slightly dishevelled. His usually carefully braided hair looked hastily done while the dark bags under Fíli’s eyes betrayed a probably restless night.

As much as Kíli would like to reassure his friend, he kept his silence. After all, Thorin’s mood could be mercurial at times. The last thing Kíli wanted was to get Fíli’s hopes up, only for it to be dashed later.

Breakfast, as a result, was a rather subdued affair, at least on Fíli’s part. Gimli was his usual chirpy self, rattling on about the new-born baby unicorns that he was caring for. The majority of his audience were girls, including even Ylva, who had never deigned to smile in Gimli’s presence since their last disastrous date during the Yule Ball. Kíli caught Lindir rolling his eyes surreptitiously because Cho was listening with such rapt attention that she completely ignored Lindir’s attempt to engage her in conversations.

“Looks like someone’s enjoying himself,” Kíli said matter-of-factly to Ori, who laughed. “Trust Gim to show off in front of girls. As much as he complains about them, he surely likes the attention.”

“It’s a pity that he doesn’t swing that way,” Kíli said without thinking. “Talking about adorable fluffy magical creatures is a sure way to pull girls.”

The smile on Ori’s face froze. Only then did Kíli realise what he had just said and he froze too. Did he just out Gimli without even knowing it for sure, let alone checking if Gimli was alright with it? How could he be so careless? “I was joking!”

Ori looked around carefully before leaning closer to Kíli and said in a low voice. “So you know too?”

“Er,” Kíli said in a hesitant voice, “I guessed. Gimli started talking about fit blokes so I just assumed that he at least leaned that way. Did he tell you?”

Ori nodded. “He only knows for sure recently. This past summer to be exact. I mean, it’s not exactly surprising, is it? Given the way he’s talked about girls.”

So it was indeed true. Kíli did not know how to feel about it. He was not uncomfortable with it because it was Gimli’s life and nobody else’s business. What did hurt a bit was the fact that Gimli had confided in Ori but not him. They did share a dormitory after all. “Yeah. I guess he assumes that everyone will just know then.”

“He’s not trying to hide it from you,” Ori said knowingly. “He just doesn’t want his dad to find out. You know what Professor Gloín’s like. The fewer people know about it, the better.” The look on his face suddenly turned anxious. “You will keep it a secret, won’t you?”

“Of course!” Kíli said indignantly. “I’d take Gimli’s secret to the grave. Although,” he shot Fíli, who was staring at his porridge listlessly, a quick look, “can I at least tell Fíli?”

“I… Well, you know I trust Fíli. But it’s not exactly my secret to tell. Maybe you can talk to Gimli about it?”

“Okay.” Kíli made a mental note about another discreet conversation he needed to have with people. This kind of stealth operation was not his forte. “I’ll talk to him.”

By the time they had arrived at the dungeon, Fíli was pale as a ghost, which was frankly alarming considering how stoic Fíli normally was. As much as Kíli would like to attribute it to the cold damp air inside the dungeon, he knew the cause of Fíli’s symptoms. Unable to take it any longer, Kíli said in a low voice, “Take it easy, mate. It’s going to be fine. Professor Thorin won’t tear you apart.”

“Sure,” Fíli said a little too quickly to be convincing. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

Before Kíli could persuade Fíli more, the door to the dungeon opened. Taking a deep breath, Fíli strode into the classroom with a bravado that he clearly did not feel. Kíli followed him inside hastily.

Thorin was sitting at his desk in his usual majestic manner. His stern countenance gave very little away, which probably explained the nervous look on Fíli’s face.

“Take out your textbook and turn to page 394.” Thorin’s eyes swept over the classroom without a lingering look on Fíli. “We’ll be making the Strengthening Potion today. Since this is a potion that requires the effort of an individual of reasonable intellect, I doubt the majority of you will be able to accomplish such a daunting task. The list of ingredients is,” with a wave of his wand, the said information appeared on the blackboard behind him, “here, along with additional notes on pitfalls to avoid. Now get a move on.”

Just as Thorin had said, the Strengthening Potion was one of the more complicated ones they were tasked to produce. Unfortunately, the task was set on Fíli’s off day, which was patently obvious when Fíli came back from the cupboard with Pomegranate juice instead of Salamander blood. For the first time outside of exams, Kíli found himself faced with the impossible task of making such a difficult potion on his own.

“Right,” Kíli muttered more to himself than anyone else. “I can do this!”

Unfortunately, the harsh reality settled in a little too soon. Little more than 20 minutes into the brewing process, Fíli, in his rare instances of clarity, discovered that their potion was the wrong shade of colour.

“It’s supposed to be turquoise!” Fíli said as he frantically flipped through the Potions textbook. “Ours is teal.”

Kíli bent down and squinted his eyes. It was hard to see through all the steam. “It looks the same to me.”

“It’s not!” Fíli cried. “It’s two completely different shades of blue. The properties of the potions will be significantly altered because of this.”

“For me,” Kíli insisted, “this is a pretty good effort. Look at Gimli and Ori’s, it’s almost purple! I’m not even going to comment on Yazneg and Grinnah’s orange abomination. In fact, I won’t go near it if I were you.”

Fíli frowned. “But look at Bolg’s! It’s the perfect turquoise. I can’t come second to Bolg!”

“That’s only because he’s partnering with Legolas, who’s doing most of the work.” Kíli could feel his patience wearing thin. Dealing with a Fíli in this state was unexpectedly trying. “You know Legolas is brilliant at Potions, much better than I am anyway.” He could not help but put particular emphasis on the world ‘I’.

Perhaps sensing Kíli’s growing annoyance, Fíli chose to remain wisely silent. The rest of the class passed in pretty much the same fashion. With Fíli silent, Kíli was left in peace to focus on the potions, which turned out to be more manageable than he had initially imagined. By the end of the class, he had managed to produce a potion that looked close enough to the perfect lime coloured one in the textbook and on Legolas’s bench.

“Fill your phials with your potions and hand them in, now.” Thorin’s authoritative voice concluded the hustle and bustle inside the dungeon as everyone scrambled to bring their Potions forward. While the class started to file out of the dungeon, however, Thorin spoke to Fíli directly, “I’d like a word with you, Fíli.”

“So here comes the storm,” Gimli said as he and Ori caught up with Kíli. “Poor Fíli.”

Kíli puffed up his chest and said with more conviction than he felt, “I’m sure Fíli will be fine. Professor Thorin won’t be too hard on him.”

Since both Ori and Kíli had a free period after Potions, they bid Gimli, who had to set out for his Muggle Studies class, goodbye and headed to the castle grounds. It was such a nice day outside, a rarity at this time of the year, that neither wanted to waste it.

After working in the bright sunlight for a while, Kíli looked up from his Potions essay to crank his neck. As much as he liked the outdoors, the lack of tables did make writing with a quill a tad challenging. Yet the scenery was so beautiful that he was willing to suffer a stiff neck for it until he set eyes on something rather unpleasant. “Is that Bolg in Greenhouse 3 with Professor Bilbo?”

Ori looked up too. “So it is. Professor Bilbo has finally agreed to take him on then.”

Kíli whipped his head around so fast that he nearly strained it. Massaging his neck, he asked in disbelief, “Take him on what?”

“A voluntary project,” Ori replied without even batting an eye, “Professor Bilbo’s offering anyone who wants to advance their Herbology knowledge the chance to work with him on a project outside of class. Quite a few have already signed up. They are hoping to get a better grade in their Herbology O.W.L. that way.”

“Is that what you’re doing with him?”

“Sort of.” Ori blushed. “Only mine is a bit more, er, advanced.”

Kíli snorted. Only Ori would spend extra hours on the extra-curricular Herbology work way beyond O.W.L. level. The question remained: what was Bolg doing with this. “I have no idea Bolg’s even interested in Herbology.”

Ori shrugged. “He probably just wants to get a better O.W.L. grade and Herbology is one of the easier ones to tackle. Professor Bilbo’s offer is just too good an opportunity to pass up, even for Bolg.” He added hastily when he saw the sceptical look on Kíli’s face. “I think he’s taking his schoolwork and grades seriously. Maybe we shouldn’t judge him too harshly. I mean, Professor Gandalf has decided to give him a second chance so why shouldn’t we?”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Fíli finally turned up, it was lunchtime already. Kíli was sitting at the Gryffindor table with Ori and Gimli, who was talking loudly about his recent Muggle Studies class.

“... and then he nearly killed everyone when he knocked over that bottle of vinegar over the bleach. Professor Bofur had to produce several Bubble Head Charms for us so we don’t inhale the toxic gas. I swear His Royal Highness did that on purpose.”

“I doubt he has such a strong death wish,” Ori said mildly while Kíli grinned. Gimli’s obsession with Legolas was becoming more and more entertaining.

“I have to agree with Ori.” Fíli’s voice made all of them look up. Kíli practically jumped up from his seat.

“Fíli! How was your talk with Professor Thorin? He didn’t give you a hard time, did he?”

Fíli smiled. “Actually, no. Uncle was surprisingly civil about it. We talked about the incident, of course, but he did not look that angry at all. Instead, he was perfectly calm. I honestly expected a lot worse.”

It was hard to keep the smile off his face but Kíli did try very hard. This was the first time that he had done something for Fíli using his ingenuity and without Fíli knowing. If he was completely honest with himself, it felt so fantastic that it almost left him feeling giddy. To think that he might even contribute to a positive change in Thorin and Fíli’s relationship! It certainly made the late-night trip to Thorin’s office well worth it. What was more, Kíli could not help but rejoice in his improved relationship with Thorin, which had taken a long way, from the initial open animosity to the now mutual respect. It was hard not to smile and look forward to what the future might bring.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first Quidditch match came and went. A little sickness brought Kíli some unexpected and almost frightening insight.

With the first Quidditch match of the year quickly approaching, the fervent studying atmosphere of the fifth year had finally given away to the equally ardent passion for Quidditch. Lady Galadriel had even decided not to leave them any Transfiguration homework the week before the match, saying that they could use the extra time.

“You’ve all worked hard enough,” Lady Galadriel smiled at her disbelieving class. “I think it’s time that you have a break. You don’t want to burn out too quickly in your O.W.L. year.”

“Of course, Professor Thorin would never do that,” Kíli said matter-of-factly to Fíli. “He’d rather we all adopt a Blast-Ended Skrewts than give us a break.”

Fíli grinned. “Maybe. But you can’t expect every professor to let us off the hook. How’s your team shaping up anyway? Is McLaggen any good now?”

If this question had been posed by any other non-Gryffindor, Kíli would find them prying. But this was Fíli so Kíli knew that he genuinely cared. “It’s better than last year at least. Cormac is no longer telling everyone else off so that’s certainly an improvement.”

“He’s still trying to pull Angelina,” Gimli added with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “I think the only reason he’s still alive is that Tauriel has strictly forbidden Angie to kill him before the match. But who knows. Maybe Angie will finally crack and we’ll be a Keeper short.”

Fortunately, Angelina’s bloodlust had been contained until the Saturday of Gryffindor versus Slytherin match, which allowed the whole Gryffindor team to show up to the changing room. The weather outside, however, was less than ideal. The howling of the wind could be heard even inside the Common Room.

“Be careful with the Slytherin Beaters,” said Tauriel, as she paced up and down the changing room with her hands behind her back and her eyebrows knitted together. “Fly against the wind helps even though that slows you down. Gimli, make sure you use the wind to your advantage. Kíli,” she turned to Kíli, “the sooner we can end the match, the better. This kind of weather condition does not play to our advantage. The Slytherins are a lot stockier than we are. This is ideal for them. With the wind, they don’t need to foul to knock you off the broomstick.”

Kíli snorted. Slytherin not fouling was as rare as a tap-dancing Thorin. A quick look at the rest of the team confirmed that he was not alone in that train of thought. Nevertheless, Tauriel was absolutely right in one respect. They needed to end the match quickly, which meant that the burden would fall on him again. Thankfully, Kíli was used to the level of expectations after more than 3 years on the team that he no longer crumbled under the pressure. Instead, he could feel his adrenaline pumping in anticipation of the match.

With the blow of Professor Bard’s whistle, the match started. The adverse weather conditions had not dampened the enthusiasm of the school, which left the stands packed. Kíli could spot Fíli in the Gryffindor stands with Ori, both of them wearing Gryffindor scarves and waving a Gryffindor flag, charmed to resist the rain, enthusiastically.

Barely 10 minutes into the match, Kíli noticed something rather peculiar. Just like Tauriel had said, the Slytherins were playing a clean and fair match, an occurrence so rare that even Lee Jordan, the commentator for the match, had noticed it.

“It has been almost 10 minutes with only 3 goals from the two teams combined. But the match is no less interesting. The Gryffindors have shown that their new training regimen is working because their teamwork is almost flawless. The Slytherin team, on the other hand, looks like they’re turning a new leaf. No fouls from the team so far, which must have been a record.”

The clean record continued, even as Gryffindor scored another two goals while McLaggen continued to thwart the Slytherin’s effort. Their style of playing was still very aggressive as it was clear that their strategy was to be as disruptive to the Gryffindors as possible. Yet none of the Slytherins, including Bolg, were fouling.

“What in the name of Mahal’s pants is going on?” Gimli’s shouts could be heard even above the howling wind. Kíli, however, had no answer. So intrigued was he by this change that he was barely paying attention to the Golden Snitch.

“Kíli!” Tauriel practically screamed when she spotted Kíli staring at Bolg rather than the Snitch the third time. “What’s wrong with you? Do your bloody job!”

“Okay, okay, sorry!”

Once he was properly focused on the task at hand, Kíli did not take long to spot the Snitch. The Slytherin Seeker, who was a far cry from Feren Woodland’s brilliance, looked none the wiser so Kíli just went for it. After dodging a viciously powerful Bludger sent his way by Bolg, Kíli closed his hand firmly on the flighty little Snitch.

“And Kíli Durin of Gryffindor has caught the Snitch!” Lee’s excited voice rang in the whole stadium. “Gryffindor won by 210 to 30.”

The celebration that ensued was one of the best in Kíli’s memories. It was the perfect and one of the easiest wins they had ever had. Everyone did their job brilliantly. Even McLaggen, who had been more of a liability than an asset last year, managed some spectacular saves and only conceded three goals. They honestly could not have asked for a better start of the season.

“That, mate, was some seriously cool bit of flying.” Gimli’s slurred speech told Kíli that his friend wasted no time in indulging himself in butterbeer.

“Cheers, mate,” Kíli grinned, “you sure you don’t want some food to go with your butterbeer?”

Gimli looked around, which took some great effort, and said, “I don’t think we have any left.”

As it turned out, Gimli was quite right. Despite the abundance of alcohol, which Kíli seriously suspected was smuggled in by Gimli during their last Hogsmeade visit, there was little food around. “I’ll head to the kitchen to get some then. We can’t have a party with no food.”

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Angelina cried from the far corner of the Common Room. She was clearly suffering from the same problem as Gimli because she was sitting precariously close to an openly drooling McLaggen, something Kíli was certain would not have happened had Angelina been sober.

“I need to get some food from the kitchen.”

“Summon a House Elf then,” Angelina said, wavering a little even though she was sitting down. “You can’t leave the party just for some food. You won us the match after all.”

“I… fine.” Kíli hesitated because he rarely did this. “Er, Blinky?”

The loud pop noise that followed nearly made Kíli jump. He did not think he would ever get used to the ways that House Elves were summoned by wizards. “Hi, Blinky.”

“Good afternoon, sirs.” Blinky beamed up at both Kíli and Gimli, his large ears bobbing up and down excitedly, not unlike an eager puppy. “What is Blinky can do for sirs?”

“Do you mind bringing us some food from the kitchen?” Kíli asked tentatively. No matter how culturally acceptable that was, Kíli would never feel comfortable making such commands. “If you don’t mind that is.”

Blinky’s eyes misted over. “Sir is too kind. Blinky lives to serve sirs and Blinky be a good House Elf. Blinky is back soon with the food.”

With the food issue resolved, the party really went underway. Kíli’s initial resolve not to get completely drunk was soon thrown out of the window when Gimli reappeared after a brief disappearance with something that looked suspiciously like Firewhiskey.

“Where on earth did you get that, Gim?” Kíli asked in disbelief as Tauriel and Angelina both laughed and grabbed themselves a bottle, McLaggen trailing closely behind them, looking like he had just won the lottery.

Gimli winked, the effort of which was quite ruined by the slightly drooping eyelids in his inebriated state. “Hogsmeade, of course. You don’t honestly think that you can find this in the kitchen, do you?”

“But how?”

“I might have borrowed your map,” Gimli said with no hint of embarrassment.

“You mean you nicked it?”

“Nick is such an ugly word.” Gimli made a face. “It was just lying there on the floor. ‘Bit hard not to pick it up, you know.”

Kíli rolled his eyes. It was so typical Gimli that he could not even get angry with him. “Of course. It must have fallen out of my trunk but silly me. Of course you feel obligated to pick it up. How did you manage to read it?”

This time it was Gimli’s turn to roll his eyes. “Honestly, Kíli! How thick do you think Ori and I are? I know you and Fíli are joined by the hips but you’re not exactly discreet when it comes to your little secret. We overheard enough to know how the map works.”

Grinning, Kíli grabbed a bottle of Firewhiskey from Gimli to pour himself a shot. This was not the first time he had tried the drink but the occasion could not be more different from the last time. If he was honest, he was too preoccupied with his rare conversation with Hamson and their loss to properly taste the alcohol. Now, however, he was in a much better mood to indulge. Remembering what Fíli had told him about the drink, Kíli took a tentative sip and nearly coughed at the burning sensation.

“Too strong for you? This is a grown-up drink after all.” Gimli’s smirk only spurred Kíli on.

“I’m fine,” Kíli said and took a larger gulp defiantly. His throat was immediately on fire but he fought hard to keep the tears at bay. “This is some good stuff.”

The smile on Gimli’s face was a bit too knowing for Kíli’s comfort. “If you say so, mate. Now try not to get yourself completely pissed on your first try.”

If Kíli could foresee the state he would be in the next day, he would have heeded Gimli’s joking advice. Unfortunately, his relatively limited experience with a hangover meant that he was neither mentally nor physically prepared for the power of Firewhiskey. The last thing he remembered was seeing McLaggen sitting smugly between Tauriel and Angelina with his arms draped on both of them, which might entirely have been his hallucination.

“I’m never drinking again, ever, in my life,” Kíli groaned during a very late breakfast the next day. “I can’t remember a thing from last night.”

“Join the club.” Gimli’s equally painful groan could be heard from underneath the pile of toasts he was buried under.

Ori shook his head. “That’s your problem. Alcohol! I swear I simply don’t get its appeal. I mean, why drink something that will make you feel like death warmed over the next day?”

“Because you want to enjoy the moment?” Fíli volunteered as he patted Kíli sympathetically on the back. “Here, have some soup. It helps.”

“But that’s so short-sighted,” Ori said firmly. “Your whole day will be wasted. Look at the amount of revision you’ll have to catch up on.”

“Ori, Kíli has just won a very important match in a most convincing manner.” Fíli’s tone was mild but undoubtedly firm. “He deserves a break and some celebration. Breaks like this are good for his mental well-being so he can come back fresh and motivated.”

“I’m not saying he shouldn’t celebrate, just not to that degree. I mean, I managed to spend another 4 hours in the library for Professor Bilbo’s research while he was getting plastered.”

“Yeah but you never care about Quidditch. So that’s not exactly a fair comparison, is it?” Kíli felt the need to defend himself.

Ori sighed exasperatedly, “Maybe I don’t care about Quidditch but even Bolg was working in the library yesterday! He’s a Quidditch player but he still knows what’s important. He made the choice to work instead of getting drunk over his loss.”

“What are you now, best mates?” Gimli’s shaggy head re-emerged from the mountain of toasts. “You can’t honestly think that he’s working on something legit. I mean, even you can’t be that naive, can you?”

Ori’s pale face flushed but he stood his ground. “I trust my judgement and I actually get to spend time with him, unlike any of you. From what I’ve seen, Bolg has changed. You’re just letting your prejudice get the better of you, which is ironic because we preach anti-discrimination while we practice the same just in different forms.”

Even in his befuddled state, Kíli felt somewhat ashamed because Ori was right. He was judging Bolg based on his preconceptions of the Slytherin, despite some very obvious changes in Bolg’s behaviour. Was this not what some of the Purebloods did to him? Perhaps Ori had a point. Bolg deserved at least another chance to prove that he had changed before they wrote him off completely.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Ravenclaw Hufflepuff match was much less anticipated, mostly due to the disparate levels of quality between the two teams. The results of a Ravenclaw landslide thus came as no surprise to anyone. Kíli personally thought that Fíli’s more than usual joy in winning the match stemmed from his earlier feud with Galion but he kept the thought to himself.

As autumn gave away to early winter, the mood in the castle shifted subtly. It was that awkward time of the year when all the leaves had fallen from the trees, leaving the castle ground looking bare and sterile, while the little snowfalls that had made their early appearances had only achieved to make the ground muddy and slushy. The fifth years were hit particularly hard by this change as the ever-increasing workload kept everyone buried to their necks and prone to bouts of depression and anxiety.

“One more stupid essay and I’m going to burn down the entire castle!” Gimli complained petulantly after Professor Thorin set them two essays to be handed in before the next class. Even Fíli or Ori did not correct him this time.

“Maybe we’ll get the same essay que… que… Achoo!”

“Sweet Mahal, Fíli!” Gimli said in alarm. “You look like death warmed up! This cold is getting worse.”

Unfortunately, Gimli was right for once. Fíli’s face, which was burning red a moment ago in the dungeon, was now ghostly white. The feverish look in his eyes only served to alarm Kíli even more. Putting a tentative hand on Fíli’s forehead, Kíli nearly jumped at the burning temperature. “Dear god! Gimli’s right. You look really ill, Fíli! You need to go to the Hospital Wing now.”

“I’m fine.” Fíli gave both of them a defiant look, which was much less effective in his current state. “I just need to drink some water and …”

“Don’t be absurd. One missed Arithmancy lesson won’t affect your O.W.L. results,” Gimli said bluntly. “If you carry on like this and drop dead, however.”

“Thanks, Gim,” Fíli said sarcastically. “Glad to know you have such confidence in my health.” 

“Fíli!” Kíli pleaded. Finally, Fíli gave up. “Fine. I’ll go and see Mister Oín. Could you tell Professor Gloín that I…”

“Of course!” Kíli said quickly before turning to Gimli. “Could you…?

With a quick wave of his hand, Gimli said, “Don’t mention it, mate.”

Kíli’s mind was still so focused on Fíli that it did not dawn on him that he would be missing his Arithmancy partner until he was inside the classroom. Ori had already gone to sit at his usual spot, next to his partner Thorin Stonehelm-Ironfoot. This left Kíli with no choice but to sit at his desk by himself, hoping that he could get through the class by himself without major incident.

“We’ll be continuing our project today.” Professor Gloín was his usual stern business-like self. “The calculation we’re working on this time is a lot more advanced than your previous endeavours. I must, therefore, stress the importance of cooperation. Think through your strategy and break down the tasks so you can delegate between yourselves. You only have an hour so use your time wisely. I’ll be here to answer any questions.”

As much as he dreaded it, Kíli knew he had to ask for help. There was no way he could have done this by himself. “Sir, I’m sorry but Fíli’s ill and in the Hospital Wing. What am I going to…”

“Ah, this is perfect actually.” Professor Gloín did not look concerned at all. “Mister Legolas’s partner, Miss Hannah Abbott, has called in sick as well. You can now work with Mister Legolas. I will give you an extra 5 minutes since you have never worked together.”

A quick look in Legolas’s direction told Kíli that the Slytherin was equally displeased about the decision. It was perhaps for that reason that Legolas was sitting resolutely at his seat, which was a mere two rows away from Kíli’s. Kíli could feel his temper, which was frayed from concerns about Fíli, quickly spiralling out of control. Sending Legolas an extremely dirty look, Kíli turned his head away petulantly from the Slytherin, determined not to move. If His Highness wanted to work with him, he had to move.

Gloín, unfortunately, was having none of this. “What in the name of Mahal is wrong with you two? You’re wasting your own precious time. Move now or fail this class!”

The look of indignation and annoyance on Legolas’s handsome face was too hard to miss but Kíli did not care. It was Legolas who caved first. In Kíli’s book, that counted as a win.

“You better pull your weight in this assignment,” Legolas said coldly as he sat down next to Kíli and slammed his bag on the desk with more force than strictly necessary. “I’ve got no time to help you.”

“Hello to you too,” Kíli said sarcastically. “No need to worry about me, Your Highness.”

Legolas’s pale face turned pink but to Kíli’s surprise, he said nothing. Instead, he simply opened the textbook and started outlining their tasks. Now that Legolas had started working without snapping back, Kíli could not help but feel guilty. Perhaps his childish reply was a bit uncalled for.

“Here.” Legolas thrust a piece of parchment to Kíli’s hand. “I’ve listed the tasks we each need to do. Let me know if you can manage yours. If not, I suppose we can switch and adjust.”

Even though Legolas’s tone still lacked warmth, there was no provocation that warranted a retort from Kíli. He, therefore, just nodded, trying not to feel annoyed. It was just what Legolas was like, nothing personal, as Kíli told himself repeatedly.

His attitude aside, Legolas’s delegation of tasks was surprisingly fair and considerate. Both of them had their equal share of work while the most complex ones were assigned to Legolas. Kíli would have felt insulted, had Legolas not assigned some very basic yet tedious ones to himself as well. It seemed that Legolas was genuinely trying to make this partnership, no matter how short-lived, work. “Er, yeah, that looks pretty good to me.”

Legolas gave him a brief nod before returning to his work, leaving Kíli to start on his share. Neither of them talked very much during the rest of the class. Compared to the other pairs, their table was as joyous as an evil dictator’s deathbed. Every now and then, Kíli would chance a glance in Legolas’s direction, which allowed him to catch a glimpse of Legolas’s profile as the Slytherin worked with all his undivided attention, his dark eyebrows frowning slightly from the concentration while his long lashes cast a shadow on his high cheekbones. He was almost attractive in this light, despite his many faults. Lucky that he was not Kíli’s cup of tea.

Kíli suddenly sat bolt upright, his quills falling from his hand. Where on earth did that thought come from? Of course Legolas was not his type. He was a bloke to start with! Yet why did Kíli find him attractive though? Was that normal, or was he just overreacting?

“Everything alright?” Legolas had noticed Kíli’s sudden change in behaviour. “Do you run into any problems?”

This rare sign of kindness from Legolas, however, achieved quite the opposite of its intended purpose. Instead, Kíli could feel his face heating up rapidly. Trying desperately to rescue the situation, he grabbed his parchment and pointed randomly at an equation. “Yeah, I didn’t understand this formula. Maybe you could…”

Legolas shot a quick glance at the formula and raised an eyebrow. Kíli read his parchment too and nearly fainted. He had picked the simplest formula on the sheet, one that he had learnt in his third year. How much worse could this be?

To his credit, Legolas did not make any disparaging remarks, which provided little comfort to a humiliated Kíli. On the contrary, he explained the formula succinctly to Kíli, who was wallowing in his self-pity to actually listen to Legolas. “Ah, right. Thanks.”

Legolas nodded curtly before returning to his own work, which finally allowed Kíli to let out a long-suffering sigh. This was not what he had in mind when he first entered the Arithmancy classroom. Yet he simply could not shake the idea out of his treacherous mind, now that it had taken hold of his subconscious. He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he nearly missed Ori’s question. “Pardon? I didn’t catch that.”

“I was wondering how your class went,” Ori repeated good-naturedly. “It must be difficult working with Legolas on such a difficult project.”

Kíli shrugged, as nonchalantly as possible. “We handed our project in time, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, but you still need to work with him after class for the second part of the project, don’t you?”

“What?” Kíli completely missed that part it seemed.

Ori gave him a strange look. “Professor Gloín told us after we handed in the work, don’t you remember? What we did today is just the first part of the project. We need to finish the rest of our homework, together with our partner.”

So he did miss it. Then another thought occurred to Kíli. “What about Fíli? He’s just missed an important class.”

“I guess Professor Gloín will partner him up with Hannah once they’ve both recovered,” Ori said. “Do you want to go to the Hospital Wing to check on him?”

The visit to Fíli should have been a welcoming distraction to Kíli’s currently battling mind. When he set foot in the room, however, Kíli could not help but notice Fíli’s long mane of golden hair, so different from Legolas’s paler silky ones, fanned out across his pillow. What was wrong with him? He had known Fíli and his hair for years. It should not have elicited such a response from him. Yet all rational thoughts fled his mind when he locked eyes with Fíli, whose eyes were so feverishly bright and blue that it left Kíli simply mesmerised. With his face so pale from whatever illness he had contracted, Fíli’s dark golden eyebrows and long eyelashes stood out sharply. In fact, Kíli felt that he had never beholden something so striking before.

“Kíli?” Fíli’s voice was so faint that Kíli was sure he must have imagined it. He rushed to Fíli’s bedside nonetheless because he could not stand to see Fíli so fragile, the usual determined and collected look in his beautiful blue eyes replaced with one of exhaustion that made him look strangely human. “Yes, I’m here.”

Fíli gave him a small smile before closing his eyes. Now Kíli was seriously worried. What had happened to his best friend? “What on earth is wrong with him? Why is he unconscious?”

“It was just the flu, laddie.” Oín’s annoyed voice made Kíli whip around. “A rather nasty one but nothing to worry about. I’ve given him a strong dose of Pepperup Potion, brewed by his uncle personally. He’s been in to visit already. The lad will be up and about in no time.”

“But why did he look so pale and tired?” Kíli insisted. “He passed out almost immediately after he saw me.”

Oín snorted, “That’s because I gave him some Potion for Dreamless Sleep too. He’s worked himself to the ground, that one, and needs some good rest if you don’t want him collapsing halfway through the year. Now if you clear out, laddie, your friend can actually rest.”

Ori tugged Kíli’s sleeves hard when Kíli had shown every sign of arguing. Nodding reluctantly, Kíli followed his friend out of the Hospital Wing.

“Are you sure Kíli will be alright?” Kíli could hardly wait before firing up with his questions. “He looked so ill.”

“Mister Oín knows exactly what he’s doing,” Ori said patiently. “He’s seen this kind of case so many times before that he can fix it with his eyes closed. Fíli will be back by tomorrow, I’m sure of it.”

Kíli, however, was not so optimistic. He knew how long it takes to recover from severe flu. He had caught it when he was a child. A single day was not the answer.

“It takes Muggles that long to recover?” Ori sounded genuinely surprised. “How unfortunate. For a wizard, it’s just a matter of one potion. If Fíli hadn’t been so sleep-deprived, he’d be out by now.”

Once again, Kíli was amazed by the power of magic. Perhaps for wizards, things like cancer and AIDS were just a small annoyance in life that could be fixed with a wave of the wand or a potion. As much as he was grateful for magic, for he was going to benefit from its power too, Kíli could not help but feel that it was rather unfair for all the Muggles suffering hopelessly.

“It’s not that unfair,” Ori said reasonably. “We may have an advantage in those areas but we also have our own diseases that we can’t cure. I don’t think Muggles need to worry about Dragon Pox, do they? But yes, in general, wizards do live a longer life. So stop worrying about Fíli. He’ll be fine.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just as Ori had predicted, Fíli turned up at breakfast the next day, looking more refreshed than he had for a long time. In fact, he looked positively radiant, making it hard for Kíli to look at him straight in the eye. It was like looking into the bright sun, burningly painful yet so very intoxicating. Somewhat belatedly, Kíli wondered vaguely if he was in serious trouble when the mundane sight of Fíli eating his porridge had managed to fill him with warmth and glee.

“I heard that you’re working with Legolas on Arithmancy,” Fíli said conversationally. “How did that one go?”

Kíli shrugged. Now that Fíli was in front of him, the thought of Legolas was as insignificant as Professor Elrond’s facial hair. “He’s alright, I reckon. A bit cold but then what’s new with the Ice Prince. We still need to work together on the assignment so we’ll see. I suppose I’ll need to find him tonight so we can get started.”

Legolas, however, was a lot more proactive than Kíli had anticipated. He approached Kíli right after Defence Against the Dark Arts double periods and asked directly, “When do you want to work on the Arithmancy assignment? I figure the sooner we can get it over with, the better.”

“Charming as ever, I see,” Kíli quipped, which Legolas completely ignored. Next to them, Fíli was fighting hard not to laugh. “Fine. I have a free period coming up. After lunch, we both have Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures but I have no Quidditch practice tonight so any time after class.”

Legolas nodded. “Let’s get it started now so we know who’s responsible for which part. I don’t know about you but I like to work on my own. If you really want to discuss anything, send me a note and I can meet you in the library.”

“Can’t wait,” Kíli said sarcastically before turning to Fíli, who read his mind immediately. “You two go ahead. I need to see Professor Gloín anyway.”

“Can’t go anywhere without your boyfriend’s permission?” Legolas said with a smirk after Fíli had left to see Professor Gloín. It was a harmless enough comment yet Kíli whipped around as if burnt. “What are you talking about?”

The look Legolas gave him was quite strange. “It was just a joke, Kíli Durin. Unless…”

“Nothing,” Kíli said a bit too quickly to be entirely believable. Thankfully, Legolas chose not to comment once again. This was giving Kíli seriously conflicted feelings about the Slytherin Pureblood.

Once they had found an empty classroom, Kíli dumped his school bag on the nearest seat and sat down heavily. Legolas, however, walked to the seat next to Kíli and bent down gingerly to inspect the chair before taking out his wand. With a quiet murmur, the almost invisible dust on the chair disappeared. Finally satisfied with the squeaky clean state of the chair, Legolas sat down gracefully next to Kíli, careful not to wrinkle his brand new robes, something he had probably purchased multiple copies of. Even after spending such a long time with Fíli and other Dwarf Purebloods, Kíli was still astounded by Legolas’s aristocratic or rather pretentious manners.

“We should start with task breakdowns just like before, don’t you agree?” The parchment and quills that Legolas extracted from his school bag were all so expensive looking that Kíli wondered if he could afford them even if he sold all his belongings, possibly including himself. “Unless you have better ideas, I’ll work on the task delegation.”

“Fine.” Kíli shrugged. He was not Fíli or Ori. He would not ask for extra work for himself when someone else offered to do it. With his feet up the desk, all he needed was a good cuppa to make this study session as enjoyable as his Christmas morning.

“Done,” Legolas said a mere 5 minutes later. “Thanks so much for your help, by the way. I couldn’t possibly have done this without you.”

“You said you prefer to work by yourself.” Kíli grinned and stretched languidly. Legolas shot his propped feet a look of pure disdain. “Besides, you were doing great on your own.”

This lip service did little to appease Legolas. Nevertheless, he handed his parchment to Kíli. Just like his previous work, the task breakdown was clearly marked and done fairly. There was nothing that Kíli wanted to change. “Looks great to me. So I just send you my part when I’m done?”

Legolas bit his lips. “You can. If, however, for some reason, you may want to discuss any of it, you know how to find me. I can probably make some time, only if it’s absolutely required, of course.”

Thankfully, Kíli had caught himself before he stared at Slytherin. Legolas had never ceased to surprise him. Was this a convoluted olive branch that Legolas had sent him, despite Kíli’s appalling manners and his also allegedly unfortunate blood status? He could still remember the first and second year Legolas, arrogant and disdainful. Even though he had rarely tormented Kíli openly since their third year, Kíli still found it hard to believe that Legolas wished to co-exist with him in harmony. Time, it seemed, was indeed a marvellous thing, almost magical.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas at Hogwarts might not be as fun as Kíli had hoped for.

With the Christmas season fast approaching, the festivity within the castle grew as each day went by. Not only was the castle decorated with Christmas trees and real-live faeries, but it was also cleaned from head to toe where all the corners were dusted, floor wiped, and all the suits of armour polished. Kíli walked past Alfrid many times, bent over to laboriously clean the castle the Muggle way while muttering angrily under his breath. Conspicuously, Mister Lock, who was usually inseparable from Alfrid, was more often absent than not.

“Perhaps he’s found himself a better master,” Gimli said absent-mindedly during one of their Care of Magical Creatures class. “Who can blame him? I wouldn’t wish Alfrid upon any being, even something as vile as Mister Lock.”

“What has Mister Lock done to you?” Ori asked curiously.

Gimli made a face. “It hisses at me every time I walk past him. I’m pretty sure that if I don’t have my wand with me, it would have attacked me. That’s beside the point though. I’ve only seen it in the company of Alfrid and Bolg, which means I have to hate it on principle.”

Now that Gimli had mentioned it, Kíli did recall seeing Mister Lock with Bolg more times than strictly normal. Mister Lock hated students in general so why would it warm up to none other than Bolg? Very strange indeed.

“What’s your plan for Christmas?” Gimli asked and it was Fíli who answered. “I’m thinking of staying here in Hogwarts.”

So shocked was Gimli that he dropped his Bowtruckle, which proved a rather unwise move. The small twig-like creature, which guarded wand-wood trees, clearly did not appreciate this very unceremonial handling. Unfortunately, it had got long sharp fingers that were promptly put into good use. Mere seconds later, Gimli could be seen shrieking in pain as he held onto his bloody legs and tripped over. He could have fallen face forward onto the ground, had it not been Legolas, who was working at the table right next to Gimli, holding out his long arm catch to catch Gimli in the fall.

“Thanks,” Gimli said through gritted teeth, from pain or reluctance to accept Legolas’s help Kíli could not tell. Saying nothing, Legolas nodded curtly before returning to his table.

“Are you alright?” asked Kíli as he fought hard not to laugh. Gimli’s embarrassment at his undignified behaviour did not cause nearly as much mirth as his annoyance that he was rescued by Legolas.

Gimli grunted, “Fine.” Turning to Fíli, he said in disbelief, “You’re not going back to Erebor? You’re not serious, are you? This is Christmas! Your mum will skin you alive if you don’t go home!”

Fíli looked positively scandalised. “Mum will never do such a thing! Anyway, I’ve discussed this possibility with her before I leave for Hogwarts this summer. She completely understands my desire to stay in the castle so I can focus on preparing for O.W.L. You know how much distraction there is at home.”

Before Gimli could speak though, Ori sighed wistfully, “I wish I can stay here too. But Dori really will skin my alive, probably Nori too just because, if I don’t go home. It will be so much easier to focus here in the castle.”

Gimli shook his head. “Mental, both of you! What about you, Kíli?”

It was a frankly redundant question, for Kíli could not think of anywhere to go for Christmas except Erebor. Now that Fíli was staying in Hogwarts, Kíli could not possibly impose himself on Dís, not that he wanted to. Despite his rather confusing feelings towards Fíli and his instinct telling him to bolt every time he was in Fíli’s presence, Kíli also wanted to spend every waking moment next to his friend.

Yet it was not just the waking moments that concerned him. Recently Fíli had taken residence in Kíli’s dreams, which were so frequently filled with less than pleasant memories of the past that Kíli had become almost immune to it. Fíli’s appearance was certainly an improvement in that regard if only the emotion it had elicited in Kíli had not been that disconcerting. Furthermore, the thought that this strange connection he had shared with Thorin might very well be active had succeeded in giving Kíli an almost heart attack. He could not even begin to contemplate what sort of reaction Thorin might have had he witnessed his own nephew and heir’s activities in Kíli’s dreams.

“Hello, still there?” Gimli’s waving hand in front of his eyes finally brought Kíli back to the present. “Are you staying here for Christmas too?”

Shaking his head to compose himself, Kíli said as calmly as he could, “I suppose. It is O.W.L. year after all.”

“Brilliant.” Fíli’s radiant smile made Kíli’s heart skip a beat. “So it will be a quiet Christmas then, just you and me.”

“You’ve got company,” Ori said, “Bolg’s staying for Christmas too.”

“What?” Kíli nearly jumped. This could not be true, could it? Was it so impossible to have a quiet uneventful holiday? “Are you sure? How do you know?”

“I overheard him talking to Professor Bilbo about continuing the project during the holiday season. He even volunteered to look after any plants in the Green Houses during Christmas since he’ll be in the castle anyway. Professor Bilbo’s quite pleased.”

If anyone else had told Kíli that Bolg would offer to help someone, Kíli would either punch them in the face for taking the mickey or force them to the Hospital Wing for hallucinating. Ori, however, was clearly neither. Kíli was, therefore, compelled to believe Ori’s tale, as much as he detested it.

The validity of Ori’s statement was confirmed only a day later. Having stayed up late the night before to catch up on his homework after a particularly long Quidditch practice session, Kíli was forced to forgo breakfast to rush to his double Herbology lessons. As a result, he was the first one outside Greenhouse Three. Yet despite the early hours, he was not alone. Kíli could hear hushed conversations coming from the back end of the Greenhouse as he walked in. Naturally, his curiosity won and he crept up quietly, carefully avoiding pots of innocent-looking Geraniums that were undoubtedly the subjects of their class that day.

The conversation emanated from the teacher’s chamber attached to each Greenhouse, which was separated from all the plants by a thin wall and a wooden door that was left ajar. Getting as close to the door as he could without making a noise, Kíli peaked through the opening to catch a glimpse of the participants of the conversation. He had half anticipated them to be Professor Bilbo and another professor, for the conversation was muffled, most probably by a spell, despite his proximity to the action. To his surprise, it was Bolg and Bilbo.

Even though Kíli could not make out the conversation clearly, it was obvious that it was something important. Bolg was gesticulating rather wildly while Bilbo kept shaking his hand. The look on Bolg’s face was not exactly threatening, which was a bit of a departure from tradition. Nevertheless, Kíli could tell that Bolg cared a great deal about whatever he was requesting. Bilbo, however, did not relent. Standing tall, or as tall as he could manage given his slight stature, Bilbo also had his left hand in his pocket. Upon a closer look, which was not exactly easy because the opening was so narrow that Kíli had to close his left eye to see through it, Kíli was almost certain that Bilbo was holding on to something in his pocket. His wand perhaps? But that did not make sense. The pocket did not look roomy enough to hold a wand, even one as short as Bilbo’s. Besides, Kíli was pretty certain that Bilbo used his right hand as his wand hand.

His assumption was confirmed when Bilbo shook his head one last time before retrieving his wand from the desk behind him. With a wave of the wand, whatever spell he cast to muffle the conversation was lifted. “That is my final word, Bolg. You’re simply not ready yet. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to attend to my…”

Realising one second too late, Kíli bolted toward the door to the Greenhouse. Unfortunately, the Greenhouse was an unwise avenue for such an activity. One wrong step and Kíli found himself falling forward. In a desperate attempt to prevent falling with his back to the teacher’s chamber, a dead giveaway that he had been eavesdropping, Kíli lunged sideways in midair. Thanks to his Seeker training, he had succeeded in this rather difficult manoeuvre. The downside of this action, of course, was that Kíli found his arms splayed in front of him, directly on top of a pot of Geranium.

“Ahhhhh!” Kíli thought his unmanly shriek was entirely justified because the Geranium, which looked so harmless before, now opened up with sharp teeth. Moreover, said teeth were now sunk deep in Kíli’s arms.

“Blimey!” Bilbo was next to Kíli in seconds. “Fanged Geranium!”

Kíli could feel himself being lifted unceremoniously into the air by the collar of his robes. Since Bilbo was still standing next to him, his mouth slightly open, not to mention that this action was entirely infeasible given Bilbo’s height, there was only one person who could have come to his rescue. The thought that he was at Bolg’s mercy made Kíli kick out, albeit in the air, and thrash violently.

“Settle down, will you?” Bolg said angrily as he set Kíli back to the ground. “Only trying to help.”

“Thank you, Bolg,” Bilbo said hurriedly as he grabbed Kíli’s bloodied arm to inspect it. “The cut’s pretty deep but I reckon we can patch it up with some bandages. Bolg, could you…”

Bolg nodded before heading back to the teacher’s chamber. Bilbo, in the meantime, was casting spells on Kíli’s hand to remove the blood. “Fanged Geranium bites aren’t exactly poisonous but I still need to clean the wound. This might sting a bit.”

“Ouch!” Kíli cried when he felt something hot and burning on his wound. Bolg, who had returned with the bandage, smirked. “One would think you’re used to such things, Durin, what with how many times you’ve been in the Hospital Wing.”

“Most of which you’re responsible for,” Kíli snapped back. If there was one person who had no right whatsoever to make fun of his injuries, it was Bolg. He fully expected a heated rebuttal from Bolg but the Slytherin just shrugged and handed the bandage to Bilbo. With another wave of his wand, Bilbo wrapped the bandage smartly on Kíli’s hand. “There, all good. Try not to use the hand. If you feel anything, go straight to the Hospital Wing. Mister Oín will sort you out.”

When the rest of the class had arrived, Fíli was the first one to notice Kíli’s bandaged hand. Not willing to discuss what he had just witnessed, Kíli shook his head at Fíli’s questioning look. It was amazing how much they understood each other now that Fíli simply nodded and went about their usual business in class.

“So, what happened with your hand?” Fíli asked the moment they were out of the Greenhouse and safely by themselves.

After Kíli had recounted the whole story, Fíli fell silent, clearly pondering over the matter. They walked in silence towards the castle until Fíli finally said, “It does seem a bit suspicious, doesn’t it, knowing that it’s Bolg.”

“Exactly!” Kíli jumped up almost immediately. “I know we’re saying we should give him a second chance but this is definitely dodgy business. What could he want to discuss with Professor Bilbo about?”

“His project? But then he’s requesting something from Professor Bilbo. I wonder what he wants.”

For that, Kíli had no answer. What intrigued him more was the mysterious object that Bilbo was holding onto during possibly the entire conversation.

“That is odd,” Fíli said with a frown. “You said that Bolg didn’t look particularly threatening?”

Kíli shrugged. “No, but he’d be pretty daft to threaten a professor. He certainly looked passionate, which, given his temper, is not exactly reassuring. Maybe that’s why Professor Bilbo’s on guard.”

“Maybe,” said Fíli slowly. “But what exactly is he holding if not his wand? What else can protect him more than his wand?”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kíli was relieved to find the castle blissfully empty the first day of the winter holidays. As much as he enjoyed the chaos in the castle, which made him feel much alive, he did crave solidarity every now and then. This term, which had been so hectic, only served to intensify such longings. Now he would not only have the Gryffindor Common Room to himself but also enjoy some quality time with Fíli. He was certain that he could lure his best friend from revision if he tried hard enough.

The task proved difficult, for Fíli was nowhere to be found during breakfast. Kíli’s heart fell. His dream of alone time with Fíli was what made the stay in Hogwarts during the holiday season so appealing. Now that Fíli was nowhere in sight, the empty Great Hall only made him feel depressingly alone.

The Staff table was half empty too. The majority of the staff members had gone home to spend the holidays with their families. Dáin, Gloín, Elrond, Lady Galadriel, and naturally Celeborn were all gone, along with Bilbo, Balin, and Dwalin. Kíli spotted Thorin at the Staff table, sitting next to Professor Gandalf, and he wondered if Thorin would stay in the castle or return to Erebor. After all, it sure was Thorin’s duty to address the Dwarf community at such an important time.

Once breakfast was done, Kíli set about to find Fíli. His first choice was the library and he was not disappointed. In their usual desk sat Fíli, his face buried inside the textbook and hidden away under his golden hair. The morning sunlight, still young and gentle, shone valiantly through the high windows, basking Fíli in a faint golden hue. Even at a distance, Kíli could see the ink stain on Fíli’s fingers, something so customary of Fíli that Kíli was surprised by its effect on him. The library was so quiet that Kíli thought he could hear Fíli’s breathing, though it might just be his imagination. The soft scribbling sound, however, was real enough that Kíli was certain he did not dream of it all.

“Kíli!” Fíli cried when he looked up and caught sight of Kíli standing dumbfounded at a distance. Clearly mistaking the look on Kíli’s face, he said hastily and somewhat defensively, “I just want to get a head start in my revision. I figure if I can make a list of tasks I want to accomplish this holiday season, I can be more organised and productive.”

Realising that he was giving Fíli the wrong impression, Kíli said quickly, “That sounds great and, er, very productive. Can I take a look at your timetable once you’re done? Might be helpful.”

Fíli relaxed visibly and smiled brightly at Kíli. “Of course! I didn’t expect you to... But never mind. Of course I’ll give it to you. It has all the study sessions planned out. I even have them colour-coded.”

Personally, Kíli thought Fíli was positively mental to do that but he remained wisely silent. In any case, it might indeed come in handy. He just hoped that Fíli did leave enough time for them to relax and enjoy the holidays, which was normally not a serious concern. Fíli, however, did have the tendency to overreact on the study front in the face of external pressure. Their third year was evidence enough, something Kíli was keen to avoid if at all possible.

Since they were already in the library, Kíli could not find an excuse not to study. The subject they were revising, Arithmancy, was positively dull for Kíli. Unfortunately, it was something he had to work on if the project assignments they had done so far this year were anything to go by. His collaboration with Legolas turned out wonderful by Kíli’s standard, with them scrapping an ‘E’. Kíli could tell that Legolas was not too happy about the results, even though the Slytherin did not openly comment on it, which Kíli was grateful for. His part was what dragged the grades down, while Legolas scored almost perfect marks on his part, which was much more difficult.

The only saving grace in this was that Arithmancy was one of Fíli’s best and favourite subjects. Perhaps it was a Dwarf thing, although Kíli suspected that Fíli would be equally good at the subject if he had been any other race. It simply suited Fíli’s careful and organised nature. Moreover, Fíli genuinely enjoyed the subject, which was evident in the glint in his eyes whenever he got the chance to talk about it. As a result, Kíli might or might not have asked Fíli too many questions on purpose. Seeing Fíli so utterly passionate about something was simply addicting.

When they finally came down to the Great Hall for a late lunch, something Kíli had to work on because Fíli was sorely tempted to stay in the library the whole time, Kíli found the Great Hall even less occupied than that morning. Even Thorin was nowhere in sight, which finally caught Fíli’s attention.

“Where’s uncle? He can’t have left without a goodbye, can he?”

Kíli thought it was unlikely for Thorin to do something so out of character. “He must be busy with something. Maybe he’s packing? Is he leaving the castle for sure?”

Fíli nodded. “Uncle has to be in Erebor for Christmas. It’s the tradition. He spends so little time there that he has to show up for an important occasion like this.”

“We should go and see him after lunch then,” Kíli said.

Thorin, as it turned out, was indeed packing. He seemed to be in a hurry too, for the door was left ajar. After knocking tentatively with no reply, Fíli shot Kíli a questioning look. Shrugging, Kíli pushed the door open and walked inside. If Thorin had left his door open, surely it meant that he was ready for visitors.

Inside, Thorin’s items were thrown haphazardly all across the room, which Kíli found rather endearing. Even someone as powerful and respected as Thorin could still be disorganised when away from the prying eyes.

“Ah,” Thorin looked up when he saw Kíli and Fíli entering his office. The tinge of pink on his face was unmistakable. “I didn’t expect, well…”

“The door’s not locked,” Kíli said quickly. “We knocked too.”

“Right,” Thorin said distractedly, turning his eyes back to the mess on the floor. “Well, I’m just packing. I need to leave the castle, on quite a short notice actually.”

The anxious look returned to Fíli’s face. “Is everything okay, uncle? Why are you leaving in such a hurry?”

Resuming his pack, Thorin answered in a calm tone that betrayed very little of his real thoughts, “We’ve heard reports about some strange activities in Barad-dûr. Naturally, Gandalf wants to check it out. I’m going with him because, well, for something of such importance, he may need an extra hand. We’re leaving in…” He waved his wand quickly so the time appeared in mid-air in fiery numbers before disappearing, “5 minutes.”

“What is…” Kíli’s question was interrupted by Fíli, who grabbed his left hand and squeezed hard. “What?”

“I’ll explain later,” hissed Fíli. He then turned to Thorin. “We’ll leave you to it then, uncle. Best of luck and,” he hesitated, “please be careful.”

Thorin looked up abruptly, his socks frozen in midair, halfway between his drawers and his rucksack. His eyes fell on the held hands of Fíli and Kíli. “I will.”

“What on earth was that all about?” Kíli burst out the moment they were outside Thorin’s office. “Where the hell is Barad-dûr and why are you and Professor Thorin acting as if he’s about to ask a Blast-Ended Skrewt to the Yule Ball?”

“Because Barad-dûr is dangerous,” said Fíli patiently. Strangely, his hand was still holding Kíli’s, something that Kíli was never going to point out. “It’s perhaps the most treacherous place in this world.”

“But where is…” Kíli’s question was again interrupted, this time by Thorin, who had opened his door and asked in a calm voice, “May I have a word with you, Kíli?”

Kíli exchanged an astonished look with Fíli. Why would Thorin want to speak to him? If this place was indeed as treacherous as Fíli had described, wouldn’t Thorin want to spend more time with his nephew, exchanging some last words of reassurance and encouragement? Kíli, however, had no time to ponder, for Thorin was tutting impatiently. He was, after all, on a timeline.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” Thorin said without preamble once he had closed the door securely behind them. For one mad terrifying moment, Kíli thought that Thorin had somehow suspected Kíli’s feelings towards Fíli and was thus taking action to erase the threat. “This is about Fíli.”

“Er.” Kíli opened his mouth and closed it. Racking his brain for a suitable explanation, Kíli nearly missed the next part of Thorin’s words. “I want you to keep an eye on him.”

“Huh?” This was not exactly what Kíli was expecting.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and retrospection since your last conversation with me, especially after Fíli’s brief stay in the Hospital Wing. Mister Oín had informed me that he believed it was induced almost solely by stress,” Thorin said, ignoring the rather dumb look on Kíli’s face. “As much as it pains me to say, I can now see the effect of my expectations on Fíli. Unlike you and his other peers, Fíli takes things too seriously, sometimes to an extreme. Personally, I do not wish for him to stay in Hogwarts during the holidays. I thought that a break with his family might do him some good. My nephew, however, is not one so easily dissuaded. Given the current situation, I must say that this may turn out to be the better course of action. I must, however, ask you to keep an eye on Fíli, lest he should slip into the same habit that he adopted in his third year. He cares for you deeply and values your opinion, Kíli. Please look after my nephew.”

The astonishment that Kíli felt increased with every word Thorin had uttered. Never had he imagined that Thorin would come to regret his decisions, let alone the fact that this change was brought up by Kíli’s interference. Perhaps he had not understood Thorin after all. Maybe he was capable of change, no matter how painstakingly. Was this rare display of open feelings the byproduct of the current pressing situation or a sign of Thorin’s increased emotional intelligence? In any case, Kíli knew that he had only one answer.

“Of course I’ll look after Fíli. I’ll do anything for him. He’s my best friend and so much more. I’ve been through our third year and I’ll try my best to avoid a repeat performance. You don’t even need to ask. And don’t worry,” he added quickly when Thorin showed every sign of speaking, “I won’t let Fíli know. He’ll probably deny it anyway but I don’t want him to think that he’s worried you while you’re off on a dangerous mission.”

The look Thorin gave him was assessing but Kíli stood his ground. The previous terror that Thorin imposed, albeit unintentionally, had evaporated, due to Thorin’s altered altitude or something else Kíli could not quite place. All he knew was that Thorin would get nothing but the truth from him if he did suspect something and thus decided to question him. There were some things that Kíli simply could not deny or hide. His heart would not allow it.

“What did uncle want?” Fíli asked the moment Kíli was out of Thorin’s office.

“Nothing much,” Kíli lied, probably quite badly. “He just wanted us to be careful when he’s gone, doing whatever he’s about to do.”

The unimpressed look on Fíli’s face confirmed Kíli’s suspicion. “Seriously, Kíli! He asked to speak to you alone. It must be something important if uncle needs to say it before he goes off to Barad-dûr. It can’t possibly be about…”

“Where and what exactly is Barad-dûr?” Kíli interrupted Fíli’s question with his own. He knew that it was a rather pathetic attempt to change the subject but he had to try.

Fíli shot him an annoyed look but he finally relented. “Fine. But don’t think this is over. I’ll grill you later.”

Kíli beamed. “Sure. Now tell me about Barad-dûr.”

“Barad-dûr is also known as the Dark Tower. It is located in Mordor, the realm and base of the Dark Lord, his stronghold. Incidentally, Sauron is officially known as the Dark Lord of Mordor. According to the rumour, that is where Sauron’s, well, what is left of Sauron after his defeat in the Last Wizarding War, remains nowadays, not dead yet still terrifying and still capable of causing great destruction.”

Kíli could feel the chill in his blood. Azog’s incarceration and Bolg’s reformation, whether genuine or not, had made him almost forget the evil lurking somewhere in this world. Thorin’s abrupt departure, however, had brought the harsh reality back to him. There was still a Dark Lord out there, biding his time, ready to come back with a vengeance. “Why hasn’t anyone tried to destroy the place and Sauron?”

“Because nobody except the Death Eaters has managed to get into Barad-dûr,” Fíli said plainly. “It’s still protected under really heavy dark spells. That’s another reason why people believe Sauron is not dead yet. His magic may have weakened after his disappearance so people can at least get into Mordor now. But it is not gone and Barad-dûr itself is still off-limits to everyone else.”

Kíli now understood the incredible danger of Thorin’s mission. If nobody, not even someone as powerful as Gandalf and Thorin, had been able to break Sauron’s spells in his current weakened state, Sauron’s magic prowess was beyond Kíli’s wildest imagination. Who knew what Thorin might encounter inside Mordor. Fíli, however, did not need any more pressure in his current state. “I’m sure your uncle will be fine. He’s going with Professor Gandalf, isn’t he? Besides, your uncle is not exactly someone to do anything rash, is he?”

Fíli did not look particularly convinced but he did not belabour the point. This did not reassure Kíli though. Fíli’s silence was not a sign of acceptance, but one of internalisation. The only benefit from this was that Fíli had quite forgotten his doubt about Thorin’s conversation with Kíli so Kíli decided to let it lie. He would talk to Fíli later, though he sincerely hoped that it would be rendered unnecessary by Thorin’s safe return.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The abrupt departure of Thorin, coupled with the solitude that seemed to permeate the castle, made Christmas a rather subdued affair. By Christmas Eve, all the professors and staff, except the Moria clan, who according to Fíli had no other family and always spent their time in the castle during the holiday season, and Alfrid, had left. With only themselves, Bolg, and a third-year Hufflepuff, it was the smallest Christmas gathering Kíli could ever remember.

“Well, Professor Bifur may not be much of a conversationalist but at least Bombur is here to cook the Christmas feast,” said Kíli bracingly. “You know the food will be delicious.”

Fíli nodded but said nothing. He had been noticeably more preoccupied and withdrawn since his uncle’s departure. Perhaps he had finally come to regret his choice of remaining in Hogwarts, which was compounded by concerns for his uncle.

Fíli, it seemed, was not the only one preoccupied. Bolg, who was sitting at the Gryffindor table because it made no sense for everyone to sit at their own table when there were so few of them, looked equally tired and stressed. He was paler than usual, though it was hard to tell from his scaly skin and noticeably thinner. The dark circles under his eyes were so prominent that Kíli thought he had been punched at first. The usual smirk that he wore as if it was his second skin was now replaced with a constant frown. Even though Kíli was no great mind reader, he could tell that something was on Bolg’s mind. Closing his eyes surreptitiously, Kíli tried to Sense Bolg’s magic.

A complete void was what Kíli got when his Sense zoned in on Bolg, which shocked him so much that he nearly fell off his chair. Never had he felt anything remotely like this before. Even when his Sense was still in its infancy, there was always some level of activity at the edge of his consciousness, just like the background white noise. It was something that he had grown so used to that its presence, instead of drawing his attention, made him strangely comforted. This dead silence, on the other hand, frightened him more than anything. What exactly did it mean? He could not have lost his Sense because he could still Sense Fíli’s magic, whose calming effect was exactly what Kíli needed. Had Bolg lost his magic? Or had he learnt to conceal his magic so powerfully that it was completely undetectable? How was such a thing possible? 

“Are you alright?” Fíli’s concerned voice jolted Kíli from his own mind. A quick look at Fíli made him feel guilty immediately. His best friend was under enough stress already. There was no need to worry him further.

“I’m fine, really. Just wondering if the presents I sent have arrived safely or not. I wonder if Keeper’s back.”

_ Pop _

Blinky’s sudden appearance made everyone jump. Bolg shot Blinky an annoyed look, which Blinky ignored completely. Instead, he beamed at Kíli. “Mister Kíli’s to know that Mister Kíli’s bird is being back. I sees the bird and feeds the bird already. The bird is bring many presents. I is bring the presents to Mister Kíli tonight.”

“Er, thanks a bunch, Blinky.” Kíli smiled awkwardly. “That’s very nice of you to tell me. Oh, and Merry Christmas.”

Next to him, Kíli could see Bolg’s smirking face. Even the third year Hufflepuff did not look too impressed by Kíli’s familiarity with the House Elf. Blinky’s eyes, however, welled up with happy tears. “Mister Kíli is much kind!” Bowing clumsily, Blinky disappeared with another pop.

“He’s really fond of you,” Fíli said with a smile. “House Elves normally avoid wizards, you know?”

“Big surprise,” said Kíli sarcastically. “I’d avoid my master who can torture and kill me whenever he feels like it too if I’m ever enslaved.”

“Well, it’s actually more to do with their instinct to be out of the way,” said Fíli but he looked awkward. “It’s been magically imprinted into their soul that a good House Elf should be invisible.”

Kíli shook his head. “As I said, completely barbaric. Maybe that’s why Blinky likes me. He knows I’m different. In any case, I quite like him too. He’s a lot better than a lot of wizards if you ask me.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interesting encounter during the Christmas holidays left Kíli wondering. But school and adventure were not the only thing on his mind that winter.

Christmas morning dawned bright and sunny, which was such a rarity that Kíli easily succumbed to the urge to leave the castle first thing in the morning. There was something strangely magical about the snow-covered ground glistering under the bright sunlight. Kíli could see the Forbidden Forest in the background, its trees covered in snow, so pristine that it was almost easy to forget the danger lurking inside.

“Where have you been up to?” Fíli asked with an eyebrow raised. His plate was empty and he was just sipping some pumpkin juice. “You’d miss breakfast if you arrive 5 minutes later.”

Like any sensible wizard with an empty stomach, Kíli ignored Fíli’s question in favour of piling his plate with all the food within reach. His mouth occupied with the far more important task, he did not speak until halfway through his breakfast when his stomach was no longer rambling. “I went outside for a bit. It was just so beautiful.”

Fíli looked torn between indulgence and exasperation. “Of course you did.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Kíli said between bites of food. “Honestly, we should go out after breakfast.”

“But…”

Putting his fork down, Kíli said firmly, “For heaven’s sake Fíli, it’s Christmas! Your revision can wait!”

“It’s not my revision that I’m worried about!” Fíli said indignantly. “It’s true! I’m not that obsessed. I just don’t feel like celebrating when my uncle is out there fighting for his life.”

Kíli felt himself soften. Of course, Fíli would be concerned. “I see. But surely Professor Thorin doesn’t want you worried sick. He’d want you to take care of yourself and you need some fresh air. You’ve been cooped up in the castle for too long. It can’t be good for your health.”

“I’m a Dwarf. I’m used to it,” Fíli muttered but he no longer sounded that insistent. Kíli capitalised on Fíli’s changed attitude immediately. “It’s just a little while and we don’t have to do anything crazy. We can just take a walk and soak in the view. Come on, Fíli.” He put on his most innocent face. “Please.”

Fíli sighed, “Fine. Just a little while though. I want to fire-call mum before lunch.”

Kíli beamed. It seemed that after so many years, Fíli still could not resist his puppy dog eyes. He filed this piece of information to the back of his mind. It would come in useful one day. He was sure.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just as Kíli predicted, the walk outside did do wonders to Fíli. Barely half an hour into the walk, the frown on Fíli’s face, which was a constant presence that marred his handsome features these days, had finally disappeared. Not only did he look less preoccupied, but his body language had changed too. Kíli could see that Fíli’s shoulders had slowly relaxed while he stood up a bit straighter. In short, he was back to the Fíli that Kíli used to know. Elated with the change, Kíli kept the conversation deliberately light. The fate of Puddlemere United had never been this interesting. Towards the end of the walk, Fíli had even agreed to play a game of Wizard’s Chess with Kíli after lunch.

“You must join me on my fire-call with mum,” Fíli said with a smile. “She misses you and would love to hear from you.”

Multi-party fire-calls, as it turned out, were more complicated than Kíli anticipated. Since they could not both jump into the fireplace at the same time, Fíli had to fire-call Dís first so Dís could call them back. This made Kíli feel bad because he knew that fire-calls, which required the caller to kneel in front of the Fireplace while sticking their head into the green fire, could be quite uncomfortable. At the same time, he could not help but wonder the backward to the point of being almost obsolete ways of Wizarding communication. Compared to Muggle technology like telephones and nowadays mobile phones, wizards still used birds to send the majority of their messages. As uncomfortable as fire-calls might be, they were at least instant. Yet it was rendered completely useless without a fireplace connected to the Floo network. The only one that could rival Muggle technology was the Patronus, which was notoriously difficult to master, even for adult wizards. Not for the first time, Kíli felt that with all the amazing magic, the Wizarding world seemed to have stopped evolving as a society after the Middle Ages.

Dís’s beaming face never failed to bring a smile to Kíli’s own. Her maternal voice warmed his heart more than a good fire or even a strong firewhiskey ever could.

“How are you, my dear boys? Had a good Christmas?”

For the first time since Thorin’s departure, Fíli looked completely at ease. Kíli watched on with a smile as Fíli chatted animatedly with his mother about everything and nothing, from homework to what he ate the day during the Christmas feast. As much as he wanted to talk to Dís, Kíli took a back seat because he knew this was a family moment for Fíli.

“I heard from your uncle last night.” Dís’s almost casual comment made both Fíli and Kíli sit up completely straight. She smiled at the concerned and eager look on their faces. “He’s fine. No need to worry. I’ve sent Dwalin to join them. Thorin didn’t want him there at the beginning because, well, because he’s Thorin and a total dunderhead sometimes. Now with Dwalin and Gandalf with him, I’m not concerned.”

“But it’s Barad-dûr and Sauron we’re talking about,” Fíli insisted.

“Yes, but Sauron has been defeated. It takes some extremely powerful dark magic to bring him back, something no one has ever achieved yet. Many have attempted it, some more successful than others. But none has succeeded. I think this is just another failed attempt.”

Fíli’s face finally relaxed. Kíli knew that this was exactly what he wanted to hear, which made him wonder if Dís was saying it for precisely that reason. But Fíli was cleverer than this. He must have trusted his mother unconditionally because she always told him the truth.

The rest of the holiday season passed in the blink of an eye. As Fíli was receiving messages from his mother about Thorin, he was no longer a bundle of nerves. He even agreed to play some Quidditch with Kíli on New Year’s Eve afternoon.

“Mum has just sent a message about uncle,” Fíli said with a bright smile. “He’s coming back from Mordor. They couldn’t find anything significant there. The magical disturbance didn’t happen again so I guess whoever tried to resurrect Sauron must have failed, just like all his predecessors.”

Kíli smiled, even though he did not feel as reassured as Fíli. Despite the fact that the attempt had failed, Kíli still felt uneasy. What if someone else succeeded later? Perhaps he was just not used to all the Dark wizards trying to bring Sauron back to life.

Even though the weather had been rather pleasant for a December afternoon, it was still cold enough to restrict the duration of any outdoor activities. After nearly an hour of flying in the chilly wind and throwing Quaffles at each other (both had agreed that the Bludgers were quite unnecessary for a fun session), they called it quits and went back to the castle, just in time for the feast.

“I’m starving!” Kíli cried as he threw himself down on the bench of the Gryffindor table. “I can eat a Hippogriff.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, lad,” Bofur said with a grin, “but Hippogriff is not on the menu. Bombur has managed to knock up some rather delicious beef wellington though.”

Two seats away from him, Bolg had already started wolfing down his food as if the plates were about to be cleared the next second. Kíli shot him a look of contempt. Bolg certainly did not know how to appreciate food. As ravenous as he was, he still wanted to savour every mouthful of the tender beef wellington, which was cooked to perfection inside the buttery flaky puff pastry, the cranberry topped game pie, and the beautifully decorated pear cake covered in salted caramel.

“You’re not leaving so early, are you, Bolg?” Bofur asked good-naturedly when Bolg rose quietly from his seat. “We’ve still got some rather marvellous treacle tarts and puddings to eat.”

Bolg blinked and shook his head, mumbling something unintelligible. With one eyebrow raised, Bofur did not question him further and Bolg left while everyone was still eating their food. Kíli exchanged a quick look with Fíli. This was certainly very curious.

“Lad’s probably going back to celebrate New Year’s Eve,” Bofur said as he lit his pipe. Taking a good long draw, he blew out the smoke slowly. “Orcs have their own rituals to welcome the New Year.”

This was something Kíli had never considered. Somehow, he had regarded Orcs as complete barbarians incapable of forming any cultural heritage. “How do you know about it, sir?”

“I used to be a toymaker,” Bofur said. “I’ve always been fascinated by toys, particular Muggle ones. It allows me to travel quite a bit because, well, everyone loves a good toy. And you learn the most about a race, their culture and their secrets from their young.” He winked, which made Kíli laugh. It was hard not to like Bofur, with his cheery demeanour and his easy-going character. Now Kíli almost wished that he had taken Muggles Studies. He never had any real toys, Muggle or otherwise, when he was in the orphanage, something he would love to remedy.

By the time Kíli had returned to Gryffindor Common Room, it was almost curfew. With his stomach full of such delicious food, pumpkin juice, and copious amount of butterbeer, Kíli was sorely tempted to just pass out in his favourite armchair in front of the fireplace. But the Quidditch practice had left his arms sore - he was no Chaser after all - so he figured he should go and sleep on a real bed.

Throwing himself into his four-poster bed, Kíli did not even give it a second look, until he felt something underneath him. Fumbling behind his back, his fingers found first his chessboard then something papery. Rolling off the bed, Kíli picked up the piece of parchment, which turned out to be the Marauder’s Map. He must have taken it out with his Wizard’s Chess. With no particular purpose in mind, Kíli pointed his wand at the map and said, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The first thing that he noticed was how empty the map looked. With the majority of the occupants of the castle gone, it was much easier to spot the remaining ones. It was then that Kíli spotted the tiny ink dot of Bolg inside the Library. More precisely, unless he was very much mistaken, inside the Restricted Section.

All his previous drowsiness completely gone, Kíli grabbed his wand and practically ran out of his dormitory, the Marauder’s map still clutched tightly in his hand.

Hoping to catch Bolg in the act, Kíli ran nonstop for a good 20 minutes before he even stopped to draw breath. It was only then that he felt the chill in the castle where the cold air clung to his exposed skin. With only a thin layer of pyjamas to shield him, Kíli had no choice but to continue running. Thankfully, he knew the way to the library by heart that he had no fear of getting lost.

As he was turning around the corner into the corridor leading up the library, Kíli stopped, both to breathe as well to check the map again. After all, if Bolg had left, there was no point for him to wander into the Restricted Section.

To Kíli’s immense relief, Bolg was still inside the Restricted Section. The tiny ink dot was no longer moving so presumably Bolg was perusing a book, a perfect opportunity for Kíli to confront him. Just as he was about to say ‘Mischief Managed’, Kíli caught a glimpse of another tiny dot, so close to his own that he missed it earlier. Unfortunately, it belonged to…

“Meow.” Mister Lock was standing right in front of Kíli, its yellow eyes fixed on Kíli. With its head down, its pupils dilated, and its back arched, it looked ready to pounce.

Kíli froze. What was he supposed to do? If he wanted to get to Bolg, he had to go past Mister Lock, which was an extremely unappealing prospect. He supposed that he could use some spells to stupefy the cat but somehow he did not think he could get away with it. Mister Lock had always seemed more intelligent than a cat.

“Meow!” Mister Lock was louder this time. The sound was so thrilling that Kíli was convinced that it was trying to get him caught. A frantic look at the map told him that he was not wrong. Alfrid the Caretaker was moving towards them at an alarming speed.

As much as Kíli wanted to catch Bolg, he was not willing to risk a month’s worth of detention with Alfrid. Shooting one last longing look in the direction of the library, Kíli turned around and ran. In this particular case, Bolg had to wait.

By the time Kíli had got back to the safety of Gryffindor Common Room, desperately out of breath and sweating profusely, it was well past 10 o’clock. It was then that he finally dared to open the Marauder’s Map again, only to find that Bolg was no longer in the library. Instead, the tiny dot of Bolg was moving quickly towards the Slytherin Common Room, where he too would be safe and undisturbed. Kíli half expected to see Mister Lock next to him but the cat was in fact with Alfrid, patrolling the castle as usual. Kíli’s mission that night had failed miserably.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You were roaming the castle in the middle of the night!” Fíli hissed vehemently when Kíli recounted his misadventure during breakfast the next morning. “Have you gone completely mental?”

“Not yet, the last time I checked,” Kíli said cooly. “But can we focus here, please? Bolg was out in the Restricted Section last night!”

Fíli, however, ignored him completely. “You could be caught and who knows, something might even happen to you. With Professor Gandalf and the majority of the professors gone, the protection of the castle is weaker than ever. Who knows, maybe this abnormal activity in Barad-dûr is merely a ruse to get Professor Gandalf and uncle there so they can infiltrate the castle.”

Even though Fíli might have a point, Kíli still felt that his friend was being paranoid. Azog and his cronies were locked up in Azkaban and he doubted any other Death Eaters still at large were powerful enough to achieve such a goal. “That might be possible but it hasn’t happened, has it? So it’s all just speculation. What did happen last night was that Bolg was out of bed after curfew in an area he was not allowed in. So can we please focus on that?”

Reluctantly, Fíli conceded. “Fine. That was indeed very suspicious.”

Kíli brightened up immediately. “It is, isn’t it? I mean, if he’s not up to no good, why sneak into the Restricted Section in the middle of the night? He clearly doesn’t want to be found.”

“To be fair,” said Fíli slowly, “nobody who wants to get into the Restricted Section without permission wants to be found, regardless of their intentions. We cannot infer his motivations from that fact alone.”

Kíli rolled his eyes. Typical rational Fíli. “What else could he want to sneak into the Restricted Section for? Isn’t it full of books on the Dark Arts and all those terrible stuff? It’s restricted for a good reason, isn’t it?”

“We lied to Professor Dáin to get there so we can get our hands on Moste Potente Potions,” Fíli reminded Kíli, probably because stating the truth was such an ingrained habit that it was a purely compulsive behaviour. “You can’t say we were up to no good.”

“But this is Bolg we’re talking about!”

“All I’m saying,” Fíli said patiently, “is that we can’t jump to conclusions. Maybe he wanted to read up more on dangerous plants for his project with Professor Bilbo. Maybe he was there to find out more about Orc rituals for New Years, most of which are pretty dark. Maybe he thought that reading those books will get him better grades. Maybe he was simply curious because he is drawn to that aspect of magic.”

“Or maybe he's planning something evil and needs some help.”

“Maybe, maybe not. You just can’t know for sure. Besides, what can he be planning? What can be so important that he would risk being expelled from school? His father is in Azkaban. It’s not like he can get away with it like he used to.”

That was a valid question that Kíli had no answer to. If this had happened before Azog’s incarceration, Kíli would be certain that Bolg was planning something. Fíli, however, was right. Bolg’s life and future prospects had changed drastically since his father’s imprisonment, which probably contributed to his changes. In fact, nothing strange had happened this year so far. Maybe Bolg was indeed repentant or at least trying to change. Was Kíli just overreacting or letting his prejudice get the better of him? “Okay, maybe his intentions are harmless. But it’s certainly dodgy, sneaking in the castle like that at night.”

Fíli looked like he was fighting a smile. “Hmm, maybe. But there’s nothing we can do about it now. You didn’t catch him so we’ve got no evidence. I say we just keep an eye on him. We’ll know one way or the other what his intentions are.”

That was precisely what Kíli did for the rest of the holidays. His Marauder’s Map, once almost forgotten, was his new best friend, as he took it everywhere he went and consulted it constantly. To his relief or disappointment, Kíli did not spot Bolg anywhere out of bound, even in the dead of the night. He could be seen in the library every now and then, which in itself was quite unusual for Bolg. Yet never once did he venture in the Restricted Section again. The only thing that Kíli had gleaned these days from stalking Bolg via the map was that Bolg had finally started to act like a proper student and was studying, something he could hardly condemn the Slytherin for.

“Just give it a rest,” Fíli said during breakfast the day before the term started. He was obnoxiously cheery in Kíli’s opinion because Thorin had returned to the castle the day before all safe and sound. “Bolg doesn’t seem to have any kind of agenda at the moment. Besides, school’s about to start. I doubt that he’s got time to do anything other than studying.”

The new school term had turned out to be exactly as Fíli had predicted. It seemed that all the teachers came to regret the loss of time of the holiday break and came back with a vengeance. The avalanche of homework for the first week back had everyone buried neck-deep in studying to worry about anything else. Kíli was growing so tired of the library, where he spent almost every waking moment in, that he had to get away for a while one Saturday afternoon.

Despite the biting weather outside, Kíli could not help but take a deep breath the moment he was out of the castle. It was such a nice welcome change from the stuffy smell inside the castle that he broke into the leisurely jog towards the Black Lake. After being cooped up inside the castle, sitting in front of the desk for what felt like an eternity, running had started to rejuvenate his numb limbs.

As he closed in towards the Black Lake, Kíli slowed down, not because he was tired, but rather because he realised that he was not alone. A solitary figure was sitting by the Black Lake, in spite of the snow. She was dressed in only her Hogwarts robes and Kíli knew that he would recognise her slender figure and flaming red hair, so long that it fell onto the pristine snow like a pool of fire, anywhere.

Tauriel turned around when Kíli got closer. The snow scrunching underneath his boots must have given him away. She was as beautiful as ever, if not more because even though she had lost some of her fire, it was replaced by the serenity that had come with personal growth and the state of being at ease with oneself. Yet Kíli could no longer feel the gentle tug of his heartstrings that Tauriel used to elicit so frequently whenever he set his eyes on her before.

“Hey,” Kíli said with a small smile as he got closer. It felt strange looming over her since he was so used to looking slightly up to her.

Tauriel smiled back. “Hello, Kíli. Do you want to sit down? I’ve got the ground snow-proofed with a warming charm too.”

If one thing could attest to Tauriel’s change, it was the use of these spells, not all of them taught in Hogwarts. The events of the last year must have made a major impact on her.

“How’s your holiday break?”

“Oh, pretty quiet really,” Tauriel said, her eyes back on the Lake. “Thranduil wasn’t home much so it was mostly just me and Legolas. He’s quite nice company nowadays, especially since he no longer has a crush on me.”

Kíli raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t know that.”

Tauriel laughed, the same tinkling laugh that Kíli used to adore so much. “I’m not that dense, Kíli. It did take me a while to figure it out because, mind you, Legolas was a lot more emotionally constipated back then. But I realised it eventually. I just don’t talk about it because it’s not really my story to tell.”

If Tauriel had confided in him a mere year ago, Kíli could have felt the pang of jealousy. Now, however, all he could feel was the sense of pride at Tauriel’s thoughtfulness. Despite everything that had transpired between them, Tauriel was first and foremost a kind witch and a loyal friend. “Legolas is lucky to have someone like you. I mean,” he added quickly, “as a friend. You’re friends, aren’t you?”

“If you asked me the same question 3 years ago, I’d have said no.” Tauriel moved around so she could sit cross-legged, her elbows resting on her knees. “But now, yeah, I think we’re friends. Legolas has changed quite a bit himself.”

Kíli nodded. “I’ve noticed it too. I never thought I would ever have a civil conversation with him but I worked with him in Arithmancy when Fíli was ill and he was really alright. Still a bit arrogant but he actually helped me with my Arithmancy.”

Tauriel beamed at him. “That’s wonderful! I used to feel the same way. Not that he was ever rude to me but I didn’t think he could turn out to be a decent wizard. But he proved me wrong last year. He was one of the few who stood by me when, you know…” her voice trailed away awkwardly and Kíli knew exactly what she meant. Legolas was there for her when the whole school, himself included, turned on her unfairly.

“I’m sor…”

“Don’t apologise,” Tauriel said quickly and almost forcefully. “Seriously, Kíli. You can say anything but just don’t apologise. It’ll only make the whole thing seem like a big mistake.”

Strangely enough, he understood what she meant. “Okay. But I’m glad Legolas was there for you. He’s a much better friend than I’ve realised or given him credit for.”

“People change,” Tauriel looked calmer now. “As much as we don’t want to believe it, we all do, some for the better while others for the worse. I guess we shouldn’t be too quick to judge. We were all children and we all grew up.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first Hogsmeade weekend of the second term came in early February, something that everyone but particularly the 5th and 7th years had been looking forward to. The weather, which had been stormy for the past week, had finally obliged. Even though it was not exactly sunny, it had at least stopped snowing or howling with wind.

“Can you go to Hogsmeade today?” Kíli asked both Gimli and Fíli during breakfast. For every Hogsmeade weekend, some Prefects and staff members had to stay behind to look after the younger students and those without permission and to keep them under control. Gimli had to miss one of the earlier ones before, a fact that he would never stop complaining about.

“Thank Mahal we’re off the hook this weekend,” Gimli said between mouthfuls of porridge. “It’s His Highness and Galion’s turn to stay. Normally I’d say I feel sorry for them but not those two poor bastards.”

“Gimli!” Fíli and Kíli cried at the same time, which prompted a quick exchange of looks and grin between them.

“Honestly, you’re too hard on Legolas,” Kíli said first. “He’s really alright nowadays, you know.”

Gimli raised an eyebrow. “You know, you’re the last person I’d expect to stand up to defend the sod. Maybe all that studying has gone to your head. Have you forgotten what he had done to you?”

“Of course I haven’t! But that was ages ago and most importantly, he has changed. People grow up and change. We can’t hold their past against them forever.”

Gimli did not say anything, which made Kíli wonder if that was the only reason why Gimli seemed to hold a particularly stubborn grudge against Legolas. If not, however, whatever else could be the reason?

The magical village was packed as usual just like any other Hogsmeade weekend. Their first stop was naturally Zonko’s, where they ran into Lindir and Tauriel with a slightly exasperated Cho. Letting out a sigh of relief, Ori went straight to Cho despite the sniggers of Gimli and the two of them were soon engaged in an animated discussion about one of the books they had read. Kíli exchanged a quick look with Fíli and both of them grinned. Ori was never into pranks like everyone else and only went to Zonko’s with them purely out of friendship and loyalty. For the rest of them, this was the golden opportunity to stock up on ammunition because, well, with Lindir around, the lack of ammunition could prove fatal.

Gimli soon went up to join Lindir and Tauriel’s conversation, which should have been a sign for concern because the idea of Gimli and Lindir talking about pranks would render the whole school shivering with terror. Kíli, however, was grateful for his friend’s departure because that meant that he could explore the store freely with Fíli. Not that time alone with Fíli was ever in short supply. Yet the fact that they were in Hogsmeade alone made the whole thing seem a lot more exciting and nerve-racking than usual.

“Look at this,” Fíli, clearly oblivious to Kíli’s internal turmoil, pointed at a box of innocent-looking sweets. “Isn’t that…”

“Blimey!” Kíli cried because it was indeed the evil twin’s skiving snackboxes. “I can’t believe that they’re selling them for real!”

“And that’s not the only thing they sell, apparently.” Fíli walked to the shelf next to the snackboxes to pick a colour box. “Patented Daydream charm.”

“What?”

Fíli read the instructions at the back of the box out loud. “One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable (side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling). Not for sale to under-sixteens.”

“You’re joking!”

“Not in the slightest.” Lindor’s voice made Kíli jump so hard that he nearly crashed into the shelf in front of him, had it not been for Fíli’s helping hand. His face heating up faster than Dáin’s dragon’s fire, Kíli muttered a quick thanks. Lindir meanwhile watched on with amusement. “This stuff does work, you know.”

Fíli looked sceptical. “Have you tried it?”

“Loads of times,” Lindir said with a swagger. “I was the twins’ tester when they first invented it. Let me tell you, what you experience in those dreams are so real that I get a ha…”

“Okay we get the picture,” Fíli said firmly, though his face was a lovely shade of pink now too. “Does Cho know?”

The smirk on Lindir’s face faltered. “Well, not really. This was before we got together so technically I didn’t do anything wrong. But I’d hardly advertise the fact, would I? And I would prefer to keep it that way.”

Fíli shook his head. “Typical. Fine. We won’t say a word.”

“And for that,” Lindir beamed at them, “I thank you, my fine gentlemen. Honestly though, do try it. It’s brilliant.”

Fíli could not look more sceptical but Kíli pocketed one surreptitiously once Fíli had left the aisle. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lindir’s smirk but thankfully the Ravenclaw said nothing and Kíli was able to hide the box amongst all the other items he had picked.

After a quick stop at Honeydukes, where they bought as many sweets as they could carry while taking great care to store them separately from the skiving snackboxes, it was almost lunchtime. Kíli was positively ravenous and all too eager for a hearty meal until he reached inside his pocket to find only a handful of sickles left. All the joke products he had bought at Zonko’s, mostly to hide his Patented Daydream box so nobody else would see it, had depleted his moneybag much more severely than he had imagined. Now he had to skip either butterbeer or lunch for that stupid Patented Daydream charm, something he had come to regret.

“I’ll get this round of butterbeer when you get the food,” Fíli said quickly the moment they had found a table. Before anyone of them could say a word, he had already left. Gimli shrugged, “I didn’t know we’re buying rounds but what the hell. What do you want to eat?”

Picking a stew, a cheap yet filling option, Kíli handed Gimli all but one of his sickles. He had absolutely no idea how he was going to pay for the butterbeers when it was his turn. There was no time to contemplate the matter though for the food had arrived, hot and steaming, and Kíli had no time for anything other than eating.

Once the eating had wound down and the conversation had started flowing again, Kíli could not help but feel the anxiety. What was he to do if they asked who was going to get the next round?

“So,” Gimli said not even 10 seconds later, “shall I go get the next round?”

To Kíli’s surprise, Fíli shook his head. “I’m good, Gim. I need to study some more this afternoon so I need my wits about me.”

Gimi stared at him. “But you just bought us drinks! We have to pay you back.”

“And get us all plastered?” Fíli rolled his eyes in what Kíli considered a slightly dramatic way. “No, thank you. You can buy me a drink next time. Today, however, I’ll pass. Come to think of it, I reckon I’m going to head back to the castle now.”

Gimli grumbled but Ori stood up with Fíli. “I agree. Let’s head back so we can get the best seats in the library with no one else there. It’s guaranteed to be at least several hours of quality revision.”

“There’s no one else there because no one else is mental enough to revise on a Hogsmeade weekend,” Gimli snapped but he too stood up. “Why am I friends with you nutters?”

Even though Kíli knew he should not feel so relieved, he could not help but think that he had dodged a massive bullet. Lucky that he had got someone as crazy about studying as Fíli and Ori. When he caught up with Fíli, however, he thought he saw a ghost of a smile on his best friend’s lips. Perhaps it was not just luck after all.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A missing student during the Hogsmeade weekend got every Prefect and professor into a frenzied manhunt.

Sunday was usually the most relaxed day of the week in Hogwarts, with no studying and no Quidditch. This was no exception even for Hogsmeade weekends since most of the students chose to go on Saturdays because they could not wait. By the time Sunday had come, their depleted money bags would usually prevent or at least shorten a second trip. Kíli, therefore, fully expected a good lie-in on Sunday morning. It was unfortunately not to be on that particular Sunday morning, for he was woken up by loud talking noises.

“... now. If we don’t find him, who knows what’s going to happen?” An unfamiliar voice was speaking very loudly and it sounded positively panic-stricken.

Peeling open his eyes reluctantly, Kíli nearly fell off his bed when he caught sight of Galion standing next to Gimli’s four-poster bed facing a nearly comatose Gimli. Kíli wondered how long it would take Galion to realise that his voice alone was not enough to arouse a deeply asleep Gimli unless Quidditch was involved. Kíli usually had to resort to much more violent means. Galion, however, gibbered on as he paced up and down in the room, pulling his hair in a panic.

“... my fault. I fell asleep when I was patrolling. Must have eaten something during lunch. Now a student has disappeared. What are we going to do?”

“Who has disappeared?” Kíli asked quickly and Galion jumped. “Is it someone we know?”

“What? Oh no. At least I don’t think so. He’s a second-year Slytherin so he’s not allowed to go to Hogsmeade. I have no idea where he could be but he’s not in his dormitory or anywhere that students usually go to,” Galion prattled on. “Maybe he’s gone home? No, that can’t be. You need to go to Hogsmeade to catch the train and you can’t Apparate in or out of the castle.”

“I doubt a second year can Apparate even if there’s no restriction on that,” Kíli said coolly, fighting hard not to roll his eyes. “But if it’s not someone we know, why are you here jabbering to Sleeping Beauty?”

Galion gave him a blank look. Of course, none of the Purebloods would get his Muggle references.

“I mean, why are you talking to Gimli, who’s clearly in a coma? He’s not going to wake up any time soon. Aren’t you supposed to go find a professor or something?”

“Oh, right.” Galion clapped his hand on his forehead. “I, er, right. I’ll go and find Professor Thorin then. Let Gimli know that we may need his help once he wakes up. We need to find out where he is.”

Now that he was fully awake, Kíli found it impossible to go back to sleep, not with Gimli’s snoring in the background anyway. Besides, if Galion had not completely lost his mind - he would not count on it - and had told him the truth, Kíli knew that Fíli must be up and very likely on a manhunt mission. Maybe he could help.

Fíli, as it turned out, was indeed busy. In fact, none of the Prefects was present at breakfast, possibly because of the missing Slytherin, except, of course, Gimli.

“Looking for Fíli?” Lindir said with a grin when he saw Kíli standing at the entrance of the Great Hall, scanning the room carefully. “He’s off on a wild goose chase I’m afraid.”

Kíli groaned. “Brilliant. Now this Sunday is going to be ruined. How did it even happen?”

“Galion messed up, of course.” Lindir rubbed his hands together, not sounding upset at all. “Some idiot from Hufflepuff slipped him a Fainting Fancy as a joke during breakfast and the gullible git ate it without a second glance. No,” he said in mock outrage at Kíli’s raised eyebrows, “it wasn’t me! I’d choose something much more dramatic, like the Nosebleed Nougat or the Puking Pastille.” Kíli made a disgusted face. Lindir laughed. “But seriously, who would eat a Skiving Snackbox candy and not realise it? Anyway, Galion went on to patrol and fainted soon after. The student, Vincent Crab or something, must have slipped off while he was out. Sneaky bugger. Must have known Galion is the weak link.”

Kíli resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Even a second-year knew to exploit their Head Boy. Not that Kíli was surprised. If he were a rulebreaker, he would exploit Galion too. “So now everyone’s out looking for this Crab?”

Lindir shrugged. “Can’t just let the bugger rot somewhere, can we? It’s going to take them forever, which is perfect.”

“Perfect for you,” Kíli did roll his eyes this time, “not for Fíli though. I need to help them and I think I might be the only one who can. I’ve something up my sleeve, you see?”

“The Marauder’s Map?” Instead of being impressed, Lindir simply looked bored.

“How do you…”

“Please, Kíli! I’m the evil twins’ best mate. Of course I know about the map. Not to hurt your feelings or anything, but they asked me if I wanted it before they gifted it to you. I turned it down of course. It feels like cheating, you know, knowing exactly where everyone is all the time. Where’s the fun in that?”

Kíli opened his mouth and closed it. “I… Okay, whatever. But I can use the map to find Crab, now that I know his name. All I need to do now is to find Fíli.”

“He’s down in the dungeon.” Bolg’s voice made both Kíli and Lindir jump. “I saw him, checking every classroom, on my way here.”

“How long have you been listening?” Lindir frowned and asked in a deeply untrusting tone.

Bolg shrugged and said, “Just got here. Thought you’d want to know,” before walking into the Great Hall as if nothing had happened.

Kíli turned to look at Lindir. “Do you think he’s lying?”

Lindir shook his head. “What for? Besides, we’ve got the map. We can check easily enough.”

After a quick scan at the map, Bolg’s information was confirmed. Fíli was indeed in the dungeon and popping in and out of every classroom. This had shocked Kíli more than Galion’s blunder. Did Bolg just help him?

“No point dwelling on it,” Lindir said matter-of-factly. “Regardless of his intentions, he did give you a piece of useful information, not that you can’t find it yourself but whatever. I’d go to Fíli if I were you.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Kíli got to the dungeon, he could see both Fíli and Thorin there. Instead of going into each classroom, however, Thorin merely waved his wand. Every now and then, he would nod at Fíli so both of them would go inside. In one such instance, they soon returned with a pair of dishevelled six-year Slytherins who both looked so red that Kíli almost missed the lipstick stain on the wizard’s face.

“Fíli, Professor Thorin,” Kíli finally called after them. Both of them whipped around. In that one crazy moment, Kíli could not help but notice how, despite their different complexion, similar their features looked.

“Kíli!” Fíli sounded both surprised and excited. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d come and help.” Kíli beamed at him before turning to Thorin. “What was the spell that you used, professor, before you enter each classroom?”

Thorin gave him a sharp look as if asking if this was the right moment to ask such a question. Kíli, however, was no longer the first year who cowered under Thorin’s wraths. When he showed no sign of backing off, Thorin gave in. “It’s called  _ Homenum Revelio _ . It reveals human presence in a room or building.”

“Wicked!” Kíli beamed even brighter. Thorin sighed laboriously, “Now that I have satisfied your curiosity, could you please tell us how you can help?”

Kíli extracted the map out of his pocket and unfolded it. With a soft tip of his wand, the Hogwarts castle materialised on the map in front of their eyes. Without another word, all three of them bent down to search the map carefully, trying to make out the name of Vincent Crab amongst the thousands of tiny moving dots.

“Here!” It was Kíli who spotted their target first, which turned out to be a lot easier than he had anticipated. For the dot of Vincent Crabbe - with a ‘be’ at the end - was alone, immobile, and far from the crowd in the…

“This is the secret passageway to Honeydukes!” Fíli cried. “No wonder we can’t find him anywhere in the castle!”

Without further ado, Thorin marched towards the third floor. Fíli and Kíli followed him closely and together they made it to the statue of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor.

Thorin gave Kíli a look that prompted him to go forward and said, “Dissendium.” The hump on the witch’s statue opened immediately. With his wand lit, Thorin entered the passage while Fíli and Kíli waited anxiously at the entrance. Soon enough, Thorin returned, this time with an unconscious Vincent Crabbing floating in front of him.

“Sweet Mahal,” Fíli cried softly.

“He’s not hurt,” Thorin said gruffly as he directed the floating Vincent up the staircases, “just completely inebriated to the point of unconsciousness.”

Kíli bit his lips to fight off a grin. Even though Vincent Crabbe might find himself in some extremely painful and unpleasant situations when he woke up, not a bit helped by his massive hangover, at least it looked like he had had a great time last night.

“I can’t believe that’s where he was!” Fíli said in disbelief. “He’s going to be in so much trouble from uncle.”

“As would Galion, if the teachers have any sense. Being an absolute idiot is no excuse, especially for a Head Boy.”

Fíli looked troubled. “I don’t know what they can do about him though. They don’t change Head Boys, not ever. It’s not like Prefects, whom you can fire after one year. Changing Head Boy in the middle of the year can be extremely humiliating and it’s his N.E.W.T. year too.”

That was a valid point but Kíli had to wonder if Galion’s mental well-being was truly worth the safety of hundreds of other students in the castle.

“I’m sure they’d find a way to improve his work though,” Fíli said bracingly after Kíli voiced his very legitimate concern. “It’s not like they’re just going to let him run with it without any intervention. Besides, Galion is just Head Boy. We’ve still got the Head Girl and other Prefects, not to mention all the professors, around to help.”

Had this incident happened a year before, Kíli would have been extremely concerned. This year, however, had been fortunately uneventful, unless one counted O.W.L. The most likely perpetrator was locked up in Azkaban while his son seemed to be on the road of rehabilitation. Speaking of Bolg, Kíli went on to tell Fíli his last encounter with the Slytherin. “Do you think he’s really trying to help?”

Fíli frowned in concentration. “I can’t think of another reason why he would talk to you. It’s not like he can trick you, with the map and everything. What else can he gain by it?”

“I dunno. I honestly can’t think of any,” Kíli said almost in frustration. “I just can’t believe that Bolg’s changing for real.”

Fíli shrugged. “Stranger things have happened before and I’m sure will happen again.”

The fate of Galion was confirmed later that day by Gimli, who had overslept and thus missed the whole event. His disappointment, in Kíli’s opinion, stemmed purely from missing out on the excitement rather than his inability to help.

“Can you believe it?” Gimli said without so much of a preamble when he joined Kíli and Fíli at the Gryffindor table for dinner. “Galion the git is still Head Boy.”

“Is that his name now, Galion the Git?” Kíli asked in mild interest, now that he had been prepped by Fíli of this likely outcome.

“Whatever. The point is, they didn’t sack him. They gave him a stern talking to but at the end of the day, Galion is still our bloody Head Boy!”

Fíli gave Kíli a ‘what did I tell you’ look before turning to Gimli. “He’s the only option. They chose him because they’ve got no one else for the job. Besides, it’s February already. Do you honestly think they’ll replace Galion with someone possibly even more incompetent and definitely more untrained just for another 4 months? What’s that going to achieve?”

“It’ll make everyone feel better, Galion finally getting his comeuppance,” Gimli said petulantly. “You’re talking more and more like Professor Thorin, by the way. Did you know? And this is not a compliment.”

“Speaking of Professor Thorin,” said Kíli quickly so Fíli would not get into an argument with Gimli, “what happened to Vincent Crabbe?”

Gimli laughed. “The poor bastard is probably traumatised for life. I think he’s still in the Hospital Wing because Mister Oín insisted on keeping him there and feeding him all sorts of vile potions, courtesy of Professor Thorin of course. Once he’s out, I heard that he has a date with Alfrid for the rest of the school year.”

That was a fate that all the Hogwarts students could commiserate. As much as detentions were unpleasant and inconvenient like a bite from a fanged Geranium, detentions with Alfrid were worse than being trampled by a horde of stampeding trolls. Kíli shook his head. This punishment seemed extreme for a mere violation of school rules. After all, Crabbe did not hurt anybody, except perhaps Thorin’s pride. Hence the rather harsh punishment.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Crabbe’s misfortune aside, life pretty much went on as usual. February soon gave way to March, bringing Kíli Gryffindor’s second Quidditch match against Hufflepuff. Of all the matches in the season, this was perhaps the least anticipated and the friendliest. This year, however, the atmosphere had changed subtly, mostly because of Gimli.

“We’ve got to beat Hufflepuff!” Gimli said with such conviction and force that everyone in the team looked up in surprise. “We’ve not only got to beat them. We need to slaughter them!”

Tauriel looked around, probably to assess the general mood of the team. Satisfied with her observation that nobody else was out for Hufflepuff’s blood, she turned back to Gimli and asked calmly, “May I ask why?”

Gimli gave her a look that expressed plainly his thought on her sanity. “Why? Why do we want to win? You’re our Captain! Have you lost your marbles?”

“What I mean is,” Tauriel massaged her temples and sighed, “why are you all of a sudden harbouring such a high level of animosity towards the Hufflepuffs? You were not even this passionate against the Slytherins.”

Gimli blinked. “I, well, I wanted to win back then, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t want to slaughter them.” Kíli joined in the conversation too. “Why the Hufflepuffs?”

“Because,” Gimli said patiently, “I don’t want to humiliate the Slytherins. I mean, they’re an opponent so of course, I want to win. But they haven’t done anything to deserve this, not this year anyway.”

“So what has the Hufflepuffs done?” Even McLaggen looked intrigued now. “They’re usually pretty harmless.”

“Galion Mirkwood,” Gimli gritted the word out and the whole team understood. After his major blunder during the last Hogsmeade weekend, Galion had got the patrol schedule wrong again, causing Gimli to patrol not only with Legolas but unnecessarily as Ylva was patrolling that night with her partner already. “You better catch the Snitch from right under his nose, Kíli. I want to see the look on his face when that happens. Although,” he added rather unkindly, “I doubt he’s got enough brain cells, is that what that’s called, left to even understand what’s going on.”

“I think we all understand your sentiment,” Tauriel said firmly before Gimli could go on. “We will win the match and we will win it big. There’s no need to bring your personal vendetta into the team. It will only distract us.”

When the match day came, Kíli was feeling slightly nervous. Ravenclaw had won a convincing 210 to 120 against Slytherin the week before, despite the impressive 10 goals Legolas had scored. Gimli was cheering for Slytherin the whole time, which he later explained was purely for selfish purposes because he wanted Slytherin to cause as much trouble for Ravenclaw as possible. Compared to the year before though, Kíli was a lot calmer. He felt confident and excited for the match to start. They could do this. He had faith in his team.

The progress of the match turned out to exceed Kíli’s wildest expectations. Gryffindor dominated the match from the first minute. Gimli’s beating was so ferocious that he knocked a Hufflepuff Chaser out within 5 minutes, forcing Hufflepuff to play with their reserve Chaser early on. This had affected the team strategy for Hufflepuff, for the reserve Chaser, a nervous third year, did not know how to work with Bain and the other Chaser. Not only did he fly around like a spooked cockatoo, often getting in Bain and the other Chaser's way, but he kept dropping the Quaffle and once even passed it directly to Tauriel who was right in front of the Hufflepuff goalposts. Tauriel was so surprised at this sudden fall of luck that she stared at the Quaffle in mid-air, her mouth hanging open. Thankfully, she recovered quickly enough to not squander it. The rest of the match went on in a similar fashion. Despite Bain and the 6th-year Chaser’s best effort, Hufflepuff had only managed to score two goals after 20 minutes while Gryffindor had managed an easy 15. It was so one-sided that the audience started cheering for the Hufflepuffs, even the Slytherins, who had no chance of winning the Quidditch Cup and despised everyone not in their House on principle. Kíli could see Legolas and Bolg cheering loudly whenever a Hufflepuff player got hold of the Quaffle. For once in his life, Kíli could hardly blame them because he was feeling bad for the Hufflepuffs too. Even though he knew that he should drag the match on so they could establish as much of a lead as possible, Kíli could not do it. He liked the Hufflepuffs and had no wish to completely destroy them. He, therefore, worked even harder to look for the Snitch.

When he had finally caught the Snitch, less than 5 minutes later, everyone, including the Hufflepuffs, was relieved. They lost 30 to 320 but it could have been worse.

“Well done, Kíli!” Tauriel beamed at him after they had landed. “Another victory and we’re top of the table!”

“You shouldn’t have caught the Snitch so early,” Gimli complained. “I could have knocked out their girl Chaser. It would have been a landslide.”

“It already is,” Kíli said firmly. “It’s good enough. Besides, I caught the Snitch, didn’t I? Surely that satisfies your thirst for revenge on Galion.”

Gimli’s retort was drowned by the singing and laughter of the rest of the team, for which Kíli was grateful. They had just won. He wanted to celebrate.

And celebrate they did. The Gryffindor Common Room was a sea of laughing, drinking, and dancing people. The crowd erupted in cheers when the team entered and Kíli soon found himself dragged into all sorts of drinking obligations. His memory became unsurprisingly blurry soon afterwards, until the moment he woke up groggily the next morning in, miraculously, his own four-poster bed.

“Er…” Gimli, who was lying next to Kíli, groaned when Kíli’s movement disturbed him. “What time is it?”

“Dunno,” Kíli said as he fumbled blindly for his wand. When he couldn’t locate it, he rolled onto his stomach, with his eyes still half-closed, and reached for his school trunk that was, rather unexpectedly, lying open right next to his bed. “Let me just find my wand.”

With his wand in hand, Kíli waved it lazily and muttered a quick Tempus. It was half past 10 already, which meant that they had missed breakfast. Sighing dramatically, Kíli wondered if he should sneak into the kitchen for some bites of food, a proposal strongly supported by Gimli. It was only then that Kíli realised that he could not find his Marauder’s map anywhere.

“Where’s my map?” Kíli asked while he flipped through the content of his school trunk haphazardly. “I can’t find it anywhere!”

“Why does it matter?” Gimli said impatiently, his stomach growling loudly as if to emphasise the point. “Let’s go without it! We know the way to the kitchen and I don’t care if we’re caught. I’m starving.”

“But…” Kíli’s retort was silenced by the death glare sent his way. Never stand in the way of food and Gimli. “Fine. You go ahead. I need to find my map.”

It was a little hard not to feel angry when Gimli left him without so much of a backward glance but Kíli reasoned that one could not argue with Gimli’s biology. Gulping down a glass of water and washing his face with cold water, Kíli felt more human and more alert. He then set out to look for the map meticulously in his room. It was inside his trunk the last time he could remember seeing it, just the morning before, but perhaps he was mistaken for a careful search inside the trunk yielded no positive results. Kíli sighed before he crouched down on all fours and crept under his four-poster bed. Apart from an extremely old and hard cockroach cluster, which might very well be a real cockroach now that he came to think of it, however, Kíli could not find anything else. An equally thorough search in other parts of the room proved futile. Kíli was ready to ransack Gimli’s school trunk since he was getting desperate when Fíli turned up.

“Kíli, are you alright? You’ve missed breakfast and I thought I’d check on you. I bumped into Gimli and he let me in. Do you want to… What in the name of Mahal…” Fíli’s mouth was open at Kíli’s room that resembled the aftermath of a particularly vicious troll attack. “Were you and Gimli that drunk last night?”

“What? No!” Kíli would have rolled his eyes if he were not so concerned. “I can’t find my Marauder’s map!”

Fíli entered the room, quite a remarkable feat since he had managed not to step on anything, and scanned it. “Hmm, did you put any protective spell on it?”

Kíli blinked. “Of course not. Why would I? I wasn’t expecting it to go missing.”

“What I mean is,” said Fíli patiently, “if it’s not under any protective spells, why don’t you summon it using magic, unless you just fancy redecorating?”

Kíli opened his mouth and closed it. How could he be so stupid? After more than 4 years in the magical world, he still resorted to Muggle methods even when a much easier alternative was available! Was he a wizard or not?

“This is quite normal.” Fíli seemed to read his mind. “It’s an ingrained habit that takes a while to change. It will come to you soon, I promise.”

“Well, thanks,” Kíli muttered awkwardly before he waved his wand and said “Accio Marauder’s map”.

Absolutely nothing happened. There was no sign of the map anywhere. Fíli frowned. “Are you sure you didn’t take it out of your dormitory and then forgot it somewhere?”

“I’m pretty sure. But even if I did, wouldn’t the summoning charm bring it to me anyway?”

“Not really,” Fíli said slowly. “They don’t discuss this in class but the power of the spell depends on your intent and knowledge.”

Kíli gave him a blank look. Magical theories were never his forte, even though he excelled at Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts, which could probably be attributed to his innate gift and his Sense and control of magic.

“Think about it like this,” Fíli explained patiently, “when you summon something, you have a general idea about where it is, don’t you? So when you cast the spell, your mind is actually trying to bring the item from that location even though you may not realise it. Otherwise, whenever you perform a summoning spell, it can bring things from hundreds of miles away, or multiple items from all over the world. Clearly, the spell doesn’t work like that. So when you were summoning the map, you were only summoning the map inside this room.”

Now that started to make more sense to Kíli. “So if I want to summon it from anywhere in the castle, I need to think about the map anywhere in the castle.”

“Yes. One more thing though,” Fíli hesitated before continuing, “now I’m not saying that this is certainly what has happened, but if this map is in another student’s room, it won’t come to you. Each dormitory has a protective spell on it because otherwise, it will be too easy for students to steal each other’s stuff. The same with all the staff’s rooms, of course.”

“I see,” Kíli said slowly. He now understood where Fíli was going. “Well, let’s find out then, shall we?”

With renewed focus and an extended range in mind, Kíli cast the spell again. Both of them waited with bated breath. Nothing happened, even after a good 10 minutes.

Without another word, Kíli darted towards the door. There was only one thing on his mind: finding out the one who stole his map. Before he could make it out of the room though, he felt the tight grip on his arm. Turning around, he came almost nose to nose with Fíli.

“You can’t just go around and shout about the map,” Fíli panted as he struggled to contain Kíli. “What do you think everyone else will think if they know you have the map?”

“What do you mean?” Kíli knew that he should yank his arm from Fíli’s grip and charge out of his dormitory because he was not making any sense. The warmth of Fíli’s hand on his arm, however, had dissolved all his resistance. “It’s just a map.”

Fíli looked relieved that Kíli was no longer acting like a madman. “But it’s not just a map, is it? It’s so much more than that.”

“I know that. I mean, it’s dead useful when we need it.” Kíli almost rolled his eyes. “How many times has it helped us?”

“By spying on other people,” Fíli said bluntly. Kíli stared at him but Fíli pressed on. “Because it is what the map does. It spies on people, where they are, who they’re with. Do you really think people will be happy when they realise that you’ve been doing that all that time?”

That stung more than Kíli would like to admit. “I haven’t! I’m not a creep!”

Fíli winced and he dropped Kíli’s arm as if burnt. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. Of course you haven’t been doing that. I know that. But the others don’t. They will think the worst when they realise what the map is capable of. They always assume the worst.”

As much as Kíli would like to deny it, he knew that Fíli was right. His best friend always had a much better grip on the more intricate matters like this. “But I can’t just let it fall into the wrong hands! Somebody stole it from me! And I think I know who that is.”

“You don’t know who that is,” Fíli said firmly. “Bolg doesn’t even know the map exists.”

“He does,” Kíli piped up at once. “Remember that time when he told me where you were? He overheard my conversation with Lindir and we mentioned the map. I wonder why he’s being so helpful!”

“But don’t you think it’s a tad obvious? If he has indeed overheard your conversation and wants to steal the map, shouldn’t he have left then instead of informing you of his presence?”

Kíli pondered on that. “Maybe. But who says Bolg is the brightest pea in the pot?”

“For someone who has managed to steal the map from the dormitory in another House, dim-witted is not a word you should use.”

“But who else?” Kíli honestly could not think of anyone else remotely suspicious.

“Okay, let’s look at this rationally,” said Fíli patiently, “when was the last time you saw the map?”

Kíli thought hard. “Yesterday morning, before the Quidditch map I think. I didn’t use it but I saw it in my school trunk.”

“So it must be stolen between then and this morning,” Fíli continued with his deduction. Kíli left the hard work to Fíli because the alcohol level inside his body meant that intellectual reasoning was a bit beyond him at the moment, particularly after his outburst. “Do you think anyone could have got inside after the match was over? Do you remember seeing anyone not from Gryffindor yesterday?”

Kíli screwed his eyes shut and tried to beat his mind into submission. The memories from the day before were fuzzy at best. Yet as far as he could remember, he did not recall seeing anyone outside of Gryffindor in the party. “I don’t think so. I know it’s a celebration and chaotic but it’s a Quidditch celebration after all. Anyone from another House would be kicked out pretty quickly.”

Fíli nodded. “I can see that. So it must be stolen when the match was on. That makes sense. Everyone was at the match. It was the perfect opportunity.”

Kíli’s heart sank. He remembered seeing Bolg in the Slytherin stand, along with Legolas, cheering for the Hufflepuffs. There was always the possibility that Bolg had slipped away during the match though.

“I don’t think so.” Fíli dashed his hope quicker than he would have liked. “I remember seeing him several times during the match. It was hard not to actually. He was cheering so exuberantly for Hufflepuff that even the Hufflepuffs were bewildered.”

Feeling utterly frustrated and angry, Kíli turned and punched the wall hard, a decision he instantly regretted for he soon jumped up into the air, howling with pain. Fíli jumped too before rushing towards him. He picked up Kíli’s bloodied hand carefully. “Oh, Kíli!” Taking out his wand, Fíli muttered a quick spell. Miraculously, all the pain and blood disappeared from Kíli’s hand that very instant.

“Wow,” Kíli said in awe, “that was wicked! When did you learn that healing spell?”

Fíli’s face turned pink. “It’s a pretty easy one really, Episkey. It fixes all minor injuries. Lindir taught me after one Quidditch practice.”

Kíli smiled. “Thanks. I need that one. Sorry about that.” He felt his face heating up. What a stupid thing to do, losing his temper like that. Fíli must think him mental now. “I didn’t mean to lose it. I was just…” His voice trailed off as his anger returned. How could this not be Bolg? This made no sense.

Fíli squeezed his hand, softly because it was only just healed. “No need to worry. I understand how you must feel. But think about how much Bolg has changed. Maybe it really wasn’t him. What could he do with the map anyway?”

That made Kíli feel slightly better. Fíli was right. Bolg had not attempted anything this year. With his father gone, there was very little Bolg could do. Even if he did steal the map, he would probably just use it to sneak into the kitchen for food. Surely nothing bad could happen in the castle, not again, not this year.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last Quidditch match of the year was usually full of drama, sometimes ending up with an unpleasant trip to the Hospital Wing.

Despite his repeated reassurance that Bolg could do them no harm, Kíli was kept on edge for the next two weeks. He had never used his Sense more often before for he was Sensing for danger and dark magic around him and Fíli constantly, which, while exhausting, did help improve his Sense exponentially. Not only could he Sense other people’s magic more easily, but his range had increased as well. If Fíli had noticed his unusual behaviour, he chose not to comment on it. After an uneventful month though, Kíli had finally let his guard down so he could focus on the more pressing matter at hand, the ever closer O.W.L. exams.

The atmosphere of the school could almost be described as feverish after the Easter Holidays. All the professors were so intent on getting everyone to pass their O.W.L.s that the avalanche of homework they had set kept everyone up late into the night. It was not uncommon to see the library packed from opening to close. Kíli wondered why he had never noticed it before. He could have mentally prepared himself much better for the madness to come had he known, for he was now on the verge of a mental breakdown. And he was far from the only one.

Fíli and Ori practically lived in the library now. It took Dori shooting spells at them to get them out of the library every night. Unlike Ori, who still went to see Professor Bilbo about his project every now and then, Fíli was so focused on revising for his O.W.L.s that he even missed his Quidditch practice once until a fuming Lindir stormed into the library to drag him out, spraying mud everywhere. The resulting greenhorn Lindir had sported for a good week taught everyone never to underestimate Dori. 

Even Gimli was spending a significant amount of time in the library. Kíli thought it wise because Gimli was always with Dáin and his beasts when he was not in the library. Considering the tension everyone was under, it was much safer for Gimli to snap around books than Dáin’s murderous beasts.

“I’m never going to remember all these potion ingredients,” Kíli wailed one night after beating his head against the Potion textbook for a good 2 hours. “I just have to fail Potions and face Professor Thorin’s wraths.”

Fíli, who had been scribbling furiously on the parchment, his Arithmancy textbook popped open in front of him, put his quill down. “You’ll get it, Kíli. You’re just stressed. You did quite well in class the other day, didn’t you?”

That was true. They were working on the Invigorating Draught, something that Thorin assured them was bound to come up in their O.W.L. exam. With the exam date edging closer, Thorin had stopped all partner projects. Instead, everyone was to work on their own Potion. To say that Kíli was nervous probably qualified as the understatement of the year. In fact, he was so nervous that he almost forgot to put the stewed mandrake into his cauldron. Fortunately, Thorin was passing by at the time and coughed pointedly, making Kíli jump.

“Have you read the instructions clearly, Kíli?” Thorin asked but not unkindly. Kíli swallowed and nodded nervously.

“Why don’t you take a look at it again?”

Squinting his eyes hard to see through all the mist, Kíli read through the list until his eyes rested on the line of the stewed mandrake. “Oh.” He could feel his face heat up, due to embarrassment or the steam from his cauldron he could not tell. “Sorry, I, I must have forgotten.”

Thorin watched in silence as Kíli added his stewed mandrake carefully to his cauldron. Once the potion was safely stewing again, he finally said, “Have you ever wondered why we add these ingredients to make potions.”

Kíli looked at him blankly. It was frankly something that had never crossed his mind. He usually just followed instructions, though often to disastrous effect. He had never stopped to ponder the reasoning behind it.

“What is the most prominent property of Mandrakes?” Thorin probed further patiently, a sight so rare and uncharacteristic of him that Kíli almost gaped.

“Er,” Kíli racked his brain for Mandrake's properties that he had learnt in Herbology. “It’s used to restore things, isn’t it?”

Thorin nodded. “Indeed. It is used to restore and give strength. Now, what is the potion we’re brewing today?”

“The invigorat… Oh.” Now Kíli understood what Thorin meant. He had always thought that Potions was just like cooking where you follow an established recipe that may or may not work. It had never occurred to him that there were some reasoning and logic behind those instructions and ingredients used.

The faint smile on Thorin’s face told Kíli that he was right. “Try to keep that in mind when you revise for Potions next time. Don’t just memorise facts. Use your logic and reasoning. You shall then find that Potions is not that different from any other branches of magic.”

“Why don’t you use the same principle that uncle has taught you?” Fíli’s words brought Kíli back to reality. “Try to think of why those ingredients are needed in each potion.”

Kíli nodded. “Yeah, I reckon I’ll try. Can’t hurt, huh?” He paused and then said hesitantly, “Your uncle has changed quite a bit, hasn’t he? He used to hate my gut. Can’t even stand the sight of me.”

Picking up his quills again, Fíli went back to his Arithmancy calculation and said, in a determinedly casual tone, “He must have realised what a good wizard you are. His prejudice against you was biased and unfounded to start with.”

Kíli frowned. Normally he would not have noticed but now that he was paying much closer attention to Fíli, he could not help but spot certain tell-tale signs that showed Fíli’s rather uneasy state. Even though his tone was casual, his grip on his quill was too tight and the force almost scratched the parchment. The tension of his shoulders was also hard to ignore. Why was Fíli so nervous? Didn’t he want Kíli to have an at least cordial relationship with his uncle? Maybe he was simply concerned that Kíli still held a grudge. “I suppose. I’m just really glad that he’s no longer hostile towards me. Your uncle really is a capital fella when he’s not acting like an arsehole.”

Rather than being reassured, Fíli gripped his quill so hard that he poked a hole in the parchment, which genuinely puzzled Kíli. Before he could investigate the matter any further, however, Ori’s abrupt arrival interrupted their private study sessions.

“What in the name of Merlin…” Fíli stared at Ori, who looked far from his composed self, from his dishevelled hair to the blood and dirt on his robes. “What happened?”

Ori almost collapsed on the seat next to Fíli. “Venomous Tentacula.”

Even though Kíli had no idea what that was, it was not hard to guess that it was deeply unpleasant and dangerous, if not from the name then from the horrified look on Fíli’s face. “You’re joking! Is that what you are working on with Professor Bilbo?”

Ori nodded. “They’re not that bad, well, as long as you know how to handle them. Their magical properties are well worth the danger anyway.”

“But you look…” Fíli gestured towards Ori’s general state.

“Right,” Ori said with a sheepish smile. “That. Actually, the Venomous Tentacula wasn’t the main problem. Well, it was the cause but certainly not the worst. Not saying that I had it that bad though, as you can probably see.”

“Ori,” Kíli said impatiently, “get to the point.”

Ori took a deep breath and said, “One of my Venomous Tentacula attacked me from behind. I shouldn’t have left them unattended, you see. But anyway, I panicked and knocked over the pot of an almost fully-grown Mandrake…”

Fíli clasped his hand over his mouth while Kíli cried, “Bloody hell, Ori!”

Ori laughed nervously. “You can say that again.”

“How did you survive that?!” Fíli asked in disbelief. “The cry of a fully-grown Mandrake can kill you!”

“I honestly don’t know,” Ori said frankly. Kíli winced. His overactive imagination had conjured up several scenarios, none of which was very pleasant. “All I knew was that I saw Professor Bilbo bending over me when I opened my eyes the next time. I reckon he must have saved me.”

Kíli turned to look at Fíli and was almost comforted to see the equally shocked look on his best friend’s face. He was not the only one astounded by this revelation. The thing was, even though everyone loved and respected Bilbo, for he was one of the best Herbologists out there, nobody would put him at the same level as Thorin or Gandalf when it comes to overall magical prowess. Nor had anyone ever heard of Bilbo’s healing talent. That was Oín’s arena, always had been and probably always would be.

“Professor Bilbo said that he didn’t have time to take me to the Hospital Wing,” Ori explained, “which was hardly surprising. I’d probably be dead if he didn’t take immediate action.”

“I never realised that Professor Bilbo was a Healer,” Fíli said cautiously while Kíli nodded enthusiastically next to him. Ori just shrugged. “People don’t give Professor Bilbo enough credit. I mean, he deals with dangerous plants all the time, doesn’t he? He must know how to handle them and the mayhem they generally cause.”

As much as the idea made sense, Kíli still was not convinced. As Fíli had said, the cry of an adult Mandrake could kill. That was no simple healing.

“In any case, I’m glad he didn’t take me to the Hospital Wing,” Ori continued. “Mister Oín is bound to tell Dori about it. Can you imagine what my brother will do?”

Kíli shook his head and laughed. Dori’s legendary fussiness over Ori would probably reach its boiling point over this. So much so that Kíli would not be surprised if Dori decided to lock Ori up in a room in the Astronomy Tower with all the windows boarded so he would never come out and face any danger. “Thank God for Professor Bilbo!”

If there was one positive that came out of Ori’s unfortunate encounter, it was that Bilbo had postponed Ori’s practical sessions on the project until the O.W.L.s were complete. He apparently did not want to risk another episode like that, despite Ori’s continued protests.

“He said that I need to focus on my exams and get some proper rest,” Ori said, poking his breakfast porridge listlessly. “He seemed to think that my lack of sleep is the cause of the accident.”

“You were stretching yourself pretty thin,” Gimli said fairly and bluntly. “You should take Professor Bilbo’s advice. You don’t want a public meltdown like poor Tom, do you?”

All of them sniggered. Tom, the Slytherin 7th year, had completely lost his head during one of his Transfiguration lessons and turned Lady Galadriel, instead of the guinea pig he was supposed to work on, into a large ostrich, who did its best to resist capture and bit Galion hard in the ensuing struggle. It eventually took the combined effort of Tauriel, Angelina, and two other students to corner the rampaging and screeching ostrich into a corner long enough so it could be transferred back by Gandalf who came to save the day. Lindir had laughed himself silly at the event for days on end.

“Anyway,” Ori said when they had all calmed down, “he didn’t stop me from doing more reading on the project so I guess there’s that. At least I won’t be completely idle.”

If there was one thing that Kíli would be certain about, it was that he would never be idle that year. Apart from the O.W.L. exams, he also had Quidditch practices, which became ever more frequent the closer to May it got. Tauriel had become utterly obsessed. The only thing she talked about these days was Quidditch. Unfortunately, so were the rest of the team.

“The scouts will be here during our last match,” Tauriel said for the hundredth time during her pre-practice talk. “But that’s beside the point really. This is the last match for many of us. We want to end the year and our Hogwarts time with not only a win but also a Cup!”

Both McLaggen and Angelina nodded with great enthusiasm. As the other two graduating 7th year of the team, it came as no surprise that they were eager to end their time in the castle with a Quidditch Cup. Their motivation, however, could not compare to Tauriel’s, for neither would go into professional Quidditch after their graduation. McLaggen’s father was a prominent Minister official so it was expected that he would follow his father’s footsteps. Angelina, on the other hand, wanted to apply for an apprenticeship in Potions. They were sitting close together, something that genuinely surprised Kíli. Despite the vast improvement of his personality, Cormac McLaggen was still not someone one would call very pleasant. Angelina, on the other hand, was one of the most popular girls in the school, with her long dark hair, obsidian eyes, dark smooth skin, athletic build from all her Quidditch years, and a bright winning personality. Kíli simply could not fathom how she could go from hating McLaggen to tolerating and even liking him now.

Even though Kíli had deliberately kept the topic of their final match out of his conversation with Fíli, it did not take a genius to know that the same level of fanaticism was mirrored on the Ravenclaw side, at least with Lindir. It was his last year at Hogwarts too so Kíli could only imagine how much he wanted to defend the Cup before he graduated. It, therefore, came as no surprise when Kíli was barely seeing Fíli outside of classes in the week leading up to the final match, for both of them were training so hard.

The matchday dawned with bright late spring sunlight. Kíli would have liked to get a bit more sleep but Gimli had other ideas. It was rather hard to go back to sleep with Gimli pacing in the room like a caged Hippogriff since the break of dawn.

“Let’s go down to breakfast,” Kíli said resignedly when he realised that resistance was futile. “I bet the team’s down there already.”

As it turned out, Kíli was quite right. The only people sitting at the breakfast table were the players of the two teams, each in a different shade of green. Kíli had never seen Lindir or Tauriel, both of whom were usually very laid-back, so nervous before. While Tauriel kept playing with her hair and Quidditch gloves, Lindir was talking and cackling so loudly that Cho kept shooting him alarmed looks. Kíli almost laughed. He wondered which of them would crack first.

Fíli, on the other hand, had shown no sign of outward nervousness, at least to the undiscerning eyes. Kíli, however, was not fooled. Even from a distance, he could tell that Fíli’s face was slightly paler than usual while his lips were pressed more firmly together. Every now and then, he would touch his nose, a subtle sign that he was more stressed than he was letting on. When he caught Kíli’s eyes, however, he relaxed and a smile crept up, brightening up his whole face. Kíli could feel his own foolish smile but he simply could not stop it.

“Stop simpering at the enemy!” Gimli hissed, which made Kíli jump. He could feel his face heating up.

“Merlin’s beard,” said McLaggen, “you’re worse than Aragorn when he was playing. One smile from Arwen and he almost swooned.”

To Kíli’s great relief, Tauriel came to his rescue. “Stop messing around, Cormac. We don’t want Kíli, or anyone on the team for that matter, flustered before the match.” She turned to Kíli. “Ignore him. You know what he’s like. He’s just trying to wind you up.”

McLaggen rolled his eyes with a smirk but did not press on the matter. Kíli knew, however, that he was not just taking the mickey out of him. McLaggen meant every word he said, which frightened Kíli more because if a casual observer like McLaggen could unearth his secret, surely Fíli would know sooner or later. Maybe he already did. The idea made Kíli shudder. What would his best friend do if he did find out? Would their friendship survive this, for there was no way that Fíli could reciprocate his feelings, not with all the duties and expectations on his shoulders?

It was with such tumultuous thoughts that Kíli went to the Quidditch pitch. The whole school was there, waiting eagerly to see the crowning of this year’s Champion. In the Staff stands, Kíli could vaguely make out some unfamiliar faces. They must be the scouts. A quick sideways look at Tauriel confirmed his suspicions, for his Captain was walking somewhat rigidly, her usual grace gone.

“Now, I want a nice clean match,” said Professor Bard as he flew into the air, ready to kick off the match. “Not that I usually need to worry about you lot but still. Make it a good one!” With that, the match started.

If Kíli had ever played a more intense match, he certainly could not recall it. It was so fast-paced that Kíli could barely see the players zooming past him. More than once, he had to scramble to get out of the way for the Bludgers and Quaffles were flying in all directions so fast that Kíli had to dodge to save his dear life. Lee Jordan, who was in his final year too, seemed to share the same sentiment. “The Quaffle has been passed to Silvan, to Johnson, to, no! A bludger from Arken makes Johnson drop the ball, which is picked up by Davis, now intercepted by Bell. Well done, Katie! She passes to Silvan, who dodges another Bludger. Bloody brilliant flying, Tauriel! And she scores!”

Kíli thumped his fist in the air in celebration! They had scored first. Nobody could have asked for a better start of the match. The Ravenclaw team, however, would not let them win so easily. Lindir and Roger, their animosity forgotten, passed the Quaffles between them so quickly that none of the Gryffindor Chasers could even come close to the red ball. Gimli’s Bludger managed to knock Roger off his course but even that was not enough, for Roger had managed to pass the Quaffle before he lost control of his broom. Lindir picked up the ball and zoomed towards McLaggen. Kíli’s heart sank. The Keeper had always been their weakest link. Surely McLaggen couldn’t…

“And McLaggen pulled a spectacular save! There you go, mate! Now Silvan has the Quaffle.”

Kíli could hardly believe his ears. Did McLaggen just block a goal from Lindir, one of the best Chasers, apart from maybe only Tauriel? Was this their year after all?

Too engrossed in the match, Kíli almost missed the tiny speckle of gold several hundred feet in front of him. Cho, on the other hand, was not so slow to react. She sped up towards the Snitch and Kíli urged his Nimbus 2000 on. They were about equidistant to the Snitch but Kíli had the advantage of being above the Snitch, allowing him to dive towards it, while Cho had to fly up. Soon Kíli found himself within reaching distance of the Snitch. It was then that he saw the angry little black ball charging towards him. Except its aim was not him, but the Snitch. Kíli understood instantly. The Ravenclaw Beater - he had a strong suspicion that it was Fíli - knew that Kíli would most likely dodge the Bludger. They thus aimed for the Snitch. This left Kíli with little choice. He could either let the Bludger hit the Snitch, resetting the search for the golden ball, or he could just go for it. Logically he knew that the first option was far more reasonable and less risky. They were only 15 minutes into the match, after all, not to mention that Gryffindor was leading 50 to 20. But Kíli wanted it to end so badly. He wanted Gryffindor to win. He wanted to give Tauriel the chance she so desperately needed. He wanted to bring the trophy to not just Tauriel but all the Gryffindor 7th years. Moreover, he wanted to be the one to achieve all that. So he went for it.

So many things happened in the next 5 seconds that it was almost surreal. Kíli felt his hand close on the flighty little golden ball and a deep sense of relief and contentment filled his heart. It was short-lived, however, for he heard the scream from a girl closeby. He looked up and saw Cho in front him, her hand on her mouth. A millisecond later, Kíli felt a sharp pain on his left ribs and he almost blacked out on the spot. The force of the Bludger was so strong that Kíli felt himself knocked off the broom. He made a wild grab for his broom but he could not reach it, not with one of his hands occupied by the Snitch. For a second, he felt that he was hovering in the air with nothing below him. Then he was falling, so fast that he wondered why people bothered with brooms. Surely it was faster to travel by just falling. The pain in his ribs intensified so Kíli finally let go. Before the darkness engulfed him, however, he saw the utterly horrified face of Fíli, his Beater’s Bat hanging limply next to him. It was also the last thing that he saw.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_It was total darkness that surrounded him, heavier than the mightiest mountain and colder than the deepest ocean. He could not see, nor could he feel. All senses were lost to him, save one. His Sense, the most magical of them all, had remained loyal while all his other senses had abandoned him. Yet he wished that his Sense had taken leave too, for all his could Sense was darkness, so desperately dense that he could hardly breathe. There was nothing he could do because he had no fight left in him. He was so terribly tired and weary that all he wanted to do was to let go. Perhaps it was not so bad to give in after all. What had he to lose? Surely anything is more preferable than this overwhelming despair, sinking into his every fibre of being._

_No, Kíli. Don’t let go! Don’t leave me!_

_Was it Fíli? Could Fíli really make such a heart-wrenching sound, the forever collected and rational Fíli? But it must be. Somehow, despite his lost senses, Kíli could see Fíli’s face, his golden hair let loose around his face, his bright blue eyes filled with tears. Perhaps he could see Fíli because his image was etched into his brain that he could never unsee him, even with all his senses deprived. None of it mattered though. The only thing that mattered was that Fíli needed him so he needed to go to him. That was all he needed to carry on fighting._

_Pulling all his strength, not physical of course for he had none, Kíli tried to concentrate his magic. He needed to fight the darkness using the only way he knew how. His body might be completely incapacitated but he had still got his will and his Fíli. The thought of Fíli was like a balm to his soul that Kíli felt lighter almost immediately. Taking heart in this small victory, Kíli focused his thoughts on Fíli, on his smile, his voice, his eyes, on every memory they had shared together._

_Time had passed, for however long Kíli knew not. He was in the limbo state, constantly fighting with the darkness, until finally, the darkness was lifted, as abruptly as it had appeared. For the first time since he had regained consciousness, or was it consciousness, Kíli could breathe._

Opening his eyes with great effort, Kíli tried to see. Yet the pain was too great and the room too dark. Perhaps he had not woken up at all. Perhaps he was still trapped in that godforsaken place. Then his eyes caught sight of something fleeting past his bed, something light and transparent, barely visible against the dark backdrop of the room. Squinting his eyes, Kíli thought he knew what that thing was. Yet it was impossible. Totally and utterly impossible. It violated everything that he knew, every principle he had learnt in the magical world. Was it real? Perhaps not. His head felt like it was on fire. The last thing that Kíli remembered seeing was the golden hair of Fíli next to him before he succumbed to darkness again.

The next time Kíli opened his eyes, it was dawn. The new sunlight streamed into the room, lighting it gradually, dispelling the dust and slumber inside. This time, Kíli was fully awake, partially because every bone inside him hurt. On a chair next to his bed, Fíli was still sleeping, though in an awkward angle that Kíli knew for sure would give him cranks once he woke up. Despite the pain, Kíli felt his heart warm up at the sight of his best friend. Fíli had stayed the night just so that he could be with him.

Kíli gasped when he tried to sit up, which woke Fíli up immediately. Jumping from his seat, Fíli’s sleepy eyes widened comically at the sight of an awake Kíli.

“Kíli! You’re… I… Oh, thank Mahal!” Fíli sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “I thought… It was all my fault. Thank Merlin you’re alright!”

“Hey, I’m fine,” Kíli said with a faint smile. “I’ll be good as new once Mister Oín has his way with me. Stop blaming yourself, Fíli.”

“How can I not?!” Fíli cried passionately, this time with real tears in his eyes. “I hit the Bludger that knocked you off your broomstick, didn’t I? I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you! I never thought you’d go for the Snitch. I thought you’d just let it go. You have to believe me, Kíli!” His eyes were so earnest that Kíli felt something tug at his heartstring, hard. “I’d never hurt you. I’d rather die than let any harm come to you, Kíli. You’re more important than anything to me in this world!”

Gritting his teeth in pain, Kíli put his hand on Fíli’s. “I know, Fíli. I know. This is not your fault. I just lost my mind at the sight of the Snitch. I know you’d never hurt me! Now,” he said firmly when Fíli had shown every sign of arguing, “why don’t you go and find Mister Oín. I’m sure he’d enjoy forcing all sorts of vile potions down my throat and truth be told, I don’t mind some pain relief, either.”

This finally worked. Fíli’s desire to relieve Kíli of his pain won out. Wiping his tears with his sleeve, Fíli left hastily to fetch Oín, who came out of his office seconds later with a tray laden with all sorts of vials that Kíli felt he might as well have died.

“Well, laddie,” boomed Oín, “you know the drill. Drink up!”

Only strong will power and the desire to keep Fíli happy made Kíli gulp down the 10 plus vials of potions without puking. By the end of it, he was so sick that he did not have the energy to protest this inhumane treatment, which he suspected had been Oín’s intention after all.

“How are you feeling?” Fíli asked once Oín had left with a satisfied smile.

Kíli closed his eyes and moved his arms experimentally. To his surprise, he felt a lot better. Magic never ceases to amaze him. “Loads better, actually.” He sat up a little straighter and smiled at Fíli. “What did I tell you? I’ll be right as rain once Mister Oín has tended to me. There’s absolutely no need to worry.”

Fíli sighed, “How can I not worry? You have no idea what it was like to watch you fall from the sky like that, knowing that I was the cause of this, whether intentional or not. It was simply ripping my heart apart. Uncle and Professor Dwalin tried their best to arrest your fall but my Bludger was so strong that you just crashed to the ground. Then you were just lying there, completely unconscious. You should see the look on uncle and Professor Dwalin’s face. The only time you moved was to moan in pain. I couldn’t even…” his voice broke, prompting Kíli to cover his hand with his own and squeezing it.

“Hey,” Kíli said gently, “I’m fine now, aren’t I? That’s all that matters, isn’t it? Let’s not dwell on those unhappy memories. Besides,” he grinned and said with deliberate levity, “I did win Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup, didn’t I? Once this is over, I’ll be the legend of Gryffindors. Cool, isn’t it?”

Fíli finally cracked a smile. “You already are. You have no idea how hard Mister Oín had to fight to keep all the Gryffindors out, all of them wanting a glimpse of their hero. Even Lindir admitted that what you pulled off was bloody brilliant and took real guts.”

Unable to help himself, Kíli beamed and puffed up his chest. It had all been worth it. Gryffindor won. This was the best send-off gift for Tauriel, Angelina and Cormac. Speaking of Tauriel… “Did Tauriel get picked by the scouts from Puddlemere United?”

The smile on Fíli’s face faltered for a second before he quickly schooled his expression into a perfectly neutral one. “I honestly don’t know. It’s not exactly the top of my list with everything else that’s been going on.”

Kíli nodded. It made sense. Apart from Quidditch, there was one other thing bothering him and he wondered if he should confide in Fíli, not because he did not trust his best friend, but because he had no wish to send Fíli into another bout of self-reproach. “I, er, I thought I felt something last night. Might have even seen something.” He shot a glance at Fíli, hoping to find out that perhaps Fíli had felt something too.

To his disappointment, Fíli only frowned. “What did you feel or see?”

“I… Well, I felt that I was surrounded by darkness, the kind caused by really Dark magic, you know? I, er, couldn’t breathe.” Kíli stopped at the horrified look on Fíli’s face. This had been his worst fear. “Honestly Fíli, I don’t think this is caused by my injuries. I was out before, remember? I really think it’s caused by some extremely Dark magic in the castle.”

“But I didn’t feel anything,” Fíli said, which made Kíli’s heart sink. “Nobody felt anything because if anyone did, they’d inform Mister Oín immediately. They always do.”

“Why?” Kíli thought the choice odd. Perhaps Oín had magical powers he knew not of, just like Professor Bilbo. 

“Because he’s in charge of the patients, isn’t he? Some of them are quite badly injured and can’t fend for themselves in case of emergencies. Mister Oín needs to make sure that his patients are taken care of.”

Kíli thought about it and had to admit that it made perfect sense. If that was the case, nobody else had sensed anything unusual going on in the castle. Was he only imagining things? The feeling, however, was not the only thing puzzling him. “There was something else. I woke up shortly afterwards and I thought I saw,” he paused because it sounded so incredibly ridiculous that he did not know if he should even say it. The kind and patient look on Fíli’s face, however, helped him make up his mind. “I think I saw Bloody’s ghost drifting past.”

Fíli gaped at him, his mouth hanging open. Kíli thought wryly that no matter what Fíli thought of his statement, he had at least succeeded in rendering Fíli utterly speechless, a feat few had ever accomplished.

“But Kíli,” Fíli finally opened his mouth and said very slowly, “that is just impossible. Bloody has been kissed by a dementor. His soul is gone.”

“I know that.” Kíli almost rolled his eyes. He might have been hurt but he did not suddenly become Galion. “But what has that got to do with anything?”

“Because,” Fíli explained patiently, “A ghost is an imprint of a wizard’s soul. You cannot have a ghost without a soul.”

Feeling keenly his limited knowledge of the Wizarding World again, Kíli tried to come up with an alternative explanation. “Maybe there’s a way to, I dunno, get his soul back.”

Fíli shook his head violently as if the idea repulsed him. “That is just impossible. It violates every principle of magic. You cannot bring back the dead, no matter how hard you try. And believe me, loads of wizards, particularly those Dark ones, have tried, and none has succeeded. Not even Sauron!”

“So it’s 100 per cent impossible to bring one’s soul back? Like no, nothing can do it.”

“Well,” Fíli fidgeted and looked down, “now this is just a myth so it’s probably bonkers, one of those stories that you were told as kids, you know. Anyway, according to that story, you can bring back some form of someone dead if you possess a powerful object like the Resurrection Stone if it does exist. But it’s not the same as bringing someone back completely because even the Resurrection Stone can’t do that. I mean, think about it. What’s the point of bringing back a soul? You haven’t got a body to put the soul in so it’s bound to go back to the dead, where it truly belongs.”

It took a while for the information to sink in. Once he had digested it all, Kíli had to admit that it made sense. Magic could not be that powerful after all. Yet if that was the case, what did he see last night?

“You were probably hallucinating,” said Fíli in a pained voice. “You have suffered a great deal, not to mention that Mister Oín had administered some potions when you were unconscious. Maybe some of it has this kind of effect?”

As much as he wanted to believe Fíli, Kíli was almost certain that he did not imagine it all. He saw Fíli before he passed out again. This was not, however, something he felt comfortable to divulge. What if he did dream it all? What would Fíli think if he knew that he was a constant feature in Kíli’s dreams? Kíli did not think he could risk that, no matter what. Everything would just have to wait.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The disappearance of a House Elf caused great concern for Kíli, who had no time to investigate because of the O.W.L.s

Thanks to Oín’s superior healing skills, Kíli was discharged from the Hospital Wing on Monday morning. In all honesty, Kíli was almost reluctant to leave since he had spent the entire day on Sunday with Fíli in the Hospital Wing. Oín had forbidden anyone else to come and visit so Kíli could heal properly. To Kíli’s great relief, Fíli had refrained from bringing up homework or any other unpleasant topics during his stay. Instead, they spent the day indulging themselves with Wizard’s Chess and Exploding Snaps. The only book Fíli did read that day, out loud to Kíli no less, was The Tales of Beedle the Bard, a most popular Wizarding children’s book that Kíli never had the chance to read himself. Kíli did enjoy it immensely. It was hard not to giggle at the title of “Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump”.

The reception at the Gryffindor table when Kíli turned up for breakfast exceeded his wildest imagination. Tauriel and Angelina ran towards him so fast that he nearly fell backwards had it not been for Fíli’s helping hand. Neither of them felt even the slightest shame for their potential murder attempt though. Or perhaps they felt that their kisses on each side of Kíli’s cheek were compensation enough. Gimli and Katie followed suit, though thankfully Gimli had refrained from emulating the girls. Even McLaggen came to give him a big hug, despite the fact that his left cheek still sported the lipstick stain from Angelina.

“We need to celebrate properly!” Tauriel announced the moment they had settled down at the Gryffindor table, her voice brooking no refusal.

“About time!” McLaggen cried.

Kíli felt his heart warm up. “You didn’t celebrate after the match?”

“Of course not!” Tauriel said. “How can we celebrate without you? Everyone’s been worried sick but Mister Oín refused to let us in to even see you, especially after he kicked Gimli out and threatened to tell Professor Gloín.”

“Gim?”

Gimli grinned at him. “It’s nothing. Should’ve chucked the dungbombs before I went but oh well. But Mister Oín wouldn’t really tell dad so no worries.”

“Anyway, let’s celebrate this Friday night!” Angelina said excitedly. “We’ve already asked Lady Galadriel and she’s fine with it. She has even given us permission to go to Hogsmeade to get some butterbeer Friday afternoon. Tauriel and I are going. We’ve got no classes.”

“I’m going too,” McLaggen added quickly. “I’ve got a free afternoon and you need all the hands you can get.” 

Kíli found the timing slightly odd. “Why don’t we celebrate over the weekend?”

Exchanging a quick look with Angelina, Tauriel said with badly concealed excitement, “Because Puddlemere United wanted me to go and discuss contracts with them this weekend. I’m not sure when I’ll be back so…” her words were cut out, this time by Kíli who threw his arms around her.

“Congratulations! This is such great news! I know you’d make it, Tauriel!”

Tauriel beamed at him. “Thanks, Kíli. It’s all thanks to you, you know. I doubt they’d offer me a place so quickly if we hadn’t won.”

So absorbed in his happiness, both for the team and for Tauriel, Kíli almost missed the look on Fíli’s face. Granted, it was very subtle. To anyone else, Fíli was his perfect self, offering congratulations to the Gryffindor team and Tauriel. Kíli, however, could tell that the smile did not reach Fíli’s eyes. Not that he could blame Fíli, of course. In fact, Kíli felt horrible because every laughter at the Gryffindor table must feel like rubbing salt in Fíli’s wound. Gryffindor’s victory was built on Ravenclaw’s loss.

“I’m sorry,” said Kíli quietly when nobody else was looking. “I didn’t mean to…”

This time, Fíli did smile. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about me. Congratulations by the way. Guess I haven’t said it yet but here you go. You absolutely deserve it.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the week passed quickly. Kíli found it hard to concentrate on studying when he was constantly anticipating the party and being patted on the shoulder by every Gryffindor that he bumped into. His initial concern about Fíli’s reaction turned out to be completely unfounded. Fíli had borne it with incredible grace and he seemed genuinely happy for Kíli whenever he received congratulations from Gryffindors and sometimes even Hufflepuffs. Perhaps he had overcome his displeasure after Monday, Kíli thought. In any case, he was glad that he did not need to tiptoe around Fíli as he did Lindir, who since the match had steadfastly refused to have any interactions with the Gryffindors, except maybe to throw a dungbomb in their general direction.

When Friday finally came, Kíli could barely contain himself. He did, however, insist on going to dinner in the Great Hall after his Khuzdûl double periods.

“But we can start the party now,” Angelina almost whined. “We’ve got all the alcohol.”

“I need to go see Fíli,” Kíli said firmly. “He doesn’t take Khuzdûl so I didn’t even get to wish him good night properly.”

Angelina opened her mouth, showing every intention of arguing the point more. Tauriel, however, came to Kíli’s rescue. “Let him have dinner with Fíli. We can go and set up the party in the meantime.” She turned to Kíli. “Just don’t take too long and don’t eat too much. We’ve got tons of food and drinks.”

“Got it.” Kíli beamed at her. He could almost swear that there was something underneath Tauriel’s smile but he was not worried. Tauriel was someone he could trust.

Even though Kíli had tried his best to finish dinner quickly, the party was already at full swing by the time he got back to the Gryffindor Common Room. The whole House seemed to have turned up for the occasion and were steadily on the way of being completely plastered, with Gimli firmly in the lead. The amount of alcohol he had consumed, however, did not prevent him from spotting Kíli.

“Kíli!” Gimli exclaimed and staggered towards Kíli the moment he climbed through the Portrait Hole. “Our hero!” He turned around and shouted above all the dins in the room. “It’s Kíli!”

Too late did Kíli realise the group’s intention as they moved towards him, all in different states of inebriation. A moment later, he found himself being carried by the crowd over their heads into the centre of the room, a distinctly uncomfortable position due to the not insignificant height differences between the Elves, Men, Dwarves, and Hobbits.

“Let’s grab our hero some drinks!” Gimli shouted from below Kíli, his hands shaking from either intoxication or excitement, making Kíli even more nervous than ever. The crowd, however, cheered and whistled with excitement. “A toast to our best Seeker and a great Wizard that Gryffindor is lucky to have!”

Tauriel appeared with two bottles of butterbeer. “You need to let him down, Gim. How’s he supposed to drink when he’s practically on his back.”

Reluctantly, the crowd obeyed. More grateful than ever to be on solid ground, Kíli accepted the butterbeer with a smile and a quick thanks to Tauriel. What followed were rounds of toasting, first to Kíli, then to the Gryffindor team, to the Quidditch Cup, to Tauriel, to every member of the team, to the Quaffles, to Gimli’s favourite Salamander, and eventually to everything else in this wonderful universe. Kíli soon lost track of the number of butterbeers he had imbibed. It must be staggering, for they were soon out of butterbeer.

“We can’t have a party without butterbeer!” McLaggen’s wails were only interrupted by his hiccups. Next to him, Angelina giggled and nodded enthusiastically.

Gimli stood up eagerly and fell on his bottom almost immediately. The crowd laughed and cheered.

“Oh shush!” Gimli cried. “I was going to vo… volunteer to go to Hogsmeade to get some more.”

Gimli must have had more to drink than he could handle, Kíli thought, if he was going to suggest something so idiotic. Even with the aid of the Marauder’s map, there was no chance that Gimli could make it out of the Gryffindor Common Room without tripping and breaking his face, let alone Hogsmeade. Truth be told, he did not think any of them would be up for the job. Not to mention that by the time someone had returned with the drinks, some good couple of hours later, the party would be over, mostly with all its participants unconscious due to the amount of alcohol they had consumed. They needed someone who could go to Hogsmeade and come back in a second. The answer, so plain and obvious, popped into his head.

“Blinky!” Kíli’s cry made Tauriel look up.

“What are you…”

“I’m trying to call a House Elf I know,” Kíli explained. “Only they can Apparate out of Hogwarts and back without attracting anyone’s attention. We just need to pay them so they can buy drinks for us.”

Tauriel beamed. “This is brilliant!” She then looked around, fully expecting the House Elf to pop out next to her, except nothing happened.

“That’s odd.” Kíli was not entirely sure if he was as drunk as Gimli that he could no longer speak intelligibly. “They usually turn up when you call for them.” He tried again, this time louder and much slower. “Blinky.”

Still nothing. No popping noise nor any sign of the House Elf.

“Maybe he’s busy elsewhere,” Tauriel said helpfully. “Let’s try someone else.”

Even though it took them several tries, they had finally managed to summon another House Elf, who took their order with glee and disappeared immediately. Barely 10 minutes later, she returned with crates of butterbeer levitating in the air, to the general applause of the crowd. Kíli was quickly handed a butterbeer and his mind was distracted from the peculiar absence of Blinky by the resumed talks of Quidditch and other topics. It was not until the day after, when he was a lot more clear-headed and sober, that he began to ponder this curious incident.

“So you did say his name clearly?” Fíli frowned when Kíli told him the story during breakfast the next day. “Are you absolutely sure? Because House Elves cannot refuse this kind of direct summon of those whom they serve.”

“I am pretty sure. In any case, I can try now.” Kíli looked around and said clearly, “Blinky.”

Just like the night before, absolutely nothing happened. There was no sign of Blinky whatsoever. Fíli frowned. “This is indeed odd. The only explanation is that Blinky is not in the castle. But where can he be?”

“Maybe someone sent him out of the castle for an errand,” Kíli said tentatively. “A professor or student might need some help from a House Elf.”

“Maybe.” Fíli did not sound very convinced. “Only a professor or staff can send a House Elf out of the castle for an extended period of time though.”

Kíli thought about it and had to concede that the restriction made sense. This also helped them narrow down the list of candidates who could send Blinky out of the castle. “We should check with Professor Dwalin and your uncle. They would know who has sent Blinky away.”

A quick detour to Dwalin’s office brought them no closer to the truth. As far as Dwalin knew, no teachers had sent Blinky, or any House Elves for that matter, out on an extended mission.

“That’s not how we do things here,” Dwalin said firmly. “We may send House Elves to buy food and supplies but none of those tasks needs more than a couple of hours. Anything that needs more than that, we do them ourselves.”

Somehow Kíli wondered whether this stemmed from consideration for the welfare of the House Elves, but he believed Dwalin. “So can you summon him? Will that override whatever order he had received?”

Dwalin frowned. “No, I do not have that authority. Only the Headmaster can. But are yeh sure yeh want to trouble him with something like this?”

Fíli looked torn but Kíli had no such concern. “Of course! Who knows where Blinky might be? What if he’s in trouble? We need to find him. Can you please take us to see the Headmaster?”

This apparently was not what Dwalin had expected to hear, as he frowned and picked his beard absent-mindedly. Kíli knew he had to persuade his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor somehow so he did the only thing he knew. Putting on his most innocent pleading look and staring Dwalin straight in the face, Kíli pleaded, “Please, professor. Blinky has helped me loads of times before and he’s always been looking out for me,” which was not exactly true but close enough in Kíli’s opinion, “surely you don’t want me to lose one of my protectors!”

Just as expected, this tactic worked wonders and Dwalin capitulated almost instantly.

“Fine,” Dwalin sighed laboriously. “I’ll take yeh to see the Headmaster. Follow me, yeh scoundrels.”

Kíli grinned sheepishly and followed Dwalin out of his office. He knew that he ought to feel guilty about manipulating Dwalin, especially in such a way. His concern for Blinky, however, overrode his sense of propriety. He would apologise to Dwalin later, once he was certain that Blinky was safe.

“Enter, please.” Gandalf’s calm voice helped settle Kíli’s nerves. The Headmaster’s office was as grand and impressive as ever. All the portraits adorning the walls still gave Kíli chills but luckily most of the occupants were either asleep or absent. Since it was summertime, the fireplace was empty, a pity since it would make the room a lot cosier. Gandalf, however, was as welcoming as ever, his deep blues eyes twinkling merrily.

“Ah, Dwalin. Young Mister Fíli and Kíli too. To what do I owe this rare pleasure?”

“Headmaster,” Dwalin said gruffly, “young Mister Kíli here needs yer help regarding a House Elf of Hogwarts.”

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. “A House Elf, indeed!” He turned to Kíli. “What can I do to help?”

“We need your help to find Blinky, sir.” Kíli wasted no time and got straight to the point. “We think he’s been missing since yesterday evening. Please, sir!”

“Kíli called for him by his name multiple times but Blinky did not answer the summons,” Fíli explained, much more calmly. “Professor Dwalin has just confirmed that he’s not aware of any staff member to have sent Blinky out of the castle, nor is this a normal practice. We are hence wondering if you may have done so or can help us summon Blinky since your order overrides all other staff members’.”

Gandalf smiled at Fíli. “Thank you, Mister Fíli, for your clear and concise summary of the situation. I shall, of course, be glad to be of any help.” He rose from his seat and said in a clear booming voice. “Blinky, please abandon whatever you’re doing and report to the Headmaster’s office immediately.”

A minute had passed yet nothing happened. The look on Gandalf’s face changed from geniality to concern. He now had his wand out and waved it quickly. Even though no utterance had come from his lips, Kíli could feel the powerful magic sweeping through the room. It was so strong that it almost startled him. But it was by no means unpleasant. A quick sideways glance told him that he was the only affected in the room. He wondered what spell Gandalf had cast.

“That is very curious,” said Gandalf quietly, almost to himself.

“What is curious, sir?” Kíli could barely contain himself.

Stroking his long grey beard, Gandalf frowned but answered nonetheless. “Each Hogwarts House Elf has a soul-binding contract the moment they enter into the service of the castle. Not only are they working in the castle, but they’re tied to the castle in the most intimate and permanent way. As the Headmaster of the school, I act as the overseer of this kind of bond. I can, therefore, with a rather complex and obscure spell, locate each House Elf’s, for lack of a better word, bonded soul. I have just reached out to Blinky’s soul yet nothing comes back. The bond is, I am afraid to say, broken.”

Everyone else stared at him. Kíli was the first one to recover. “Who broke it? We need to find him so we can bring Blinky back!”

Fíli shook his head, his face white. “You don’t understand, Kíli. Soul bonds like this can’t just be broken.”

“But,” Kíli felt deeply confused, “professor Gandalf just said that it’s broken.”

“What I mean is that this kind of bond cannot be broken by magic.” Kíli was startled to find Fíli’s hand trembling slightly. “It can only be broken by death.”

Kíli gasped. Of all the possibilities, this was one he did not consider. The worst, he thought, might be that Blinky was kidnapped and enslaved by some. Never would he imagine that Blinky’s life would be in danger. Why would anyone want to hurt Blinky? He was just a House Elf. “But why? Blinky is not like us. Why would someone kill him?”

Gandalf looked grave and pensive. “Why indeed! You are correct, however, in assuming that nobody would kill Blinky for profit. Unfortunately, that does not guarantee one’s safety against the dark and twisted. There are a million reasons for them to take another innocent life, sometimes for no reason at all.”

“But there must be a reason.” Kíli simply could not accept such a cruel idea. “Whoever killed Blinky must have done it for a reason.”

“Maybe he saw something he shouldn’t have and was silenced because of that,” Fíli suggested with a grim look.

Dwalin nodded. “It is certainly possible. House Elves go around the castle all the time and it is not inconceivable for them to stumble upon something.”

Gandalf still looked deeply troubled. “Whatever the reason, one thing is certain: there’s a murderer inside the castle.”

The thought sent a chill down Kíli’s spine. Were they never going to have a peaceful year?

“What if it was an accident?” Fíli said desperately. He clearly found the idea of murder abhorring too. “Or maybe Blinky was killed outside of Hogwarts when someone sent him out on an errand. The student got too scared to report it that they just remained silent.”

Nobody had an answer to this. All they could do at this point was to speculate. In the end, Gandalf took control of the situation. “I will go and talk to the House Elves to see if anyone has seen or heard anything. Rest assured that nobody in the castle, be it a wizard or Muggle or House Elf, would ever be harmed without justice being done. I will take it as my personal responsibility that the culprit is apprehended. In the meantime, I suggest you return to your Houses. Both of you are in the most critical year of your Hogwarts career that you cannot afford any distractions with your exams so close.”

As much as Kíli would like to stay and get involved in the case, he knew Gandalf was right. There was only a little over a month left until the O.W.L.s and Kíli was feeling the pressure now more than ever. Unlike some of his classmates, he had no backup plan. He had to do well if he wanted anything for his future.

The next month was entirely devoted to studying and revising for the O.W.L.s. If Kíli had thought that the end of Quidditch season would give him a breather, he was sorely mistaken. Their workload had increased exponentially since then, probably because all the professors realised that they could capitalise on the free time, leaving Kíli barely anytime to eat or sleep. Still, he ploughed on mostly because he had to, but also because he at least got to spend most of that time with Fíli. Even a highly stressed Fíli was better than no Fíli at all.

The atmosphere in the castle during the week before the exams was completely fanatical. Even the laziest students in the 5th and 7th years were studying. Kíli had long grown used to the sight of Bolg in the library, most of the time next to Legolas. He did not, however, expect to see Tauriel in the library so many times that he was starting to doubt his own eyes. If there was one person who did not need to study, it was Tauriel because she had her future secured regardless of her N.E.W.T. results.

“I still want to get as many N.E.W.T.s as I can,” said Tauriel matter-of-factly when Kíli probed her about her unseemly long study hours. “Who knows if I can make it to the Puddlemere United starting lineup. Loads don't. Even if I do, what if I play so horrendously that they decide to drop me after my contract’s up, which is only a season by the way. I’ll be left without a job or any prospect if I don’t have any qualifications.”

Kíli found that highly unlikely. Tauriel was the best Chaser he had ever seen.

Tauriel smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence but you never know. I may get injured so badly that I have to retire. It happens. It’s just good to have a backup plan. Besides, I now know how important it is to be a proper witch.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They got their exams timetable from Lady Galadriel during their last Transfiguration class before the exam weeks. The exams spanned over two weeks because most of the subjects required testing on both the magical theory and practical use. Kíli was relieved to find that the first subject was Charms, something that he quite excelled at. At least he would be off to a decent start. The first week would be extremely intense, however, for all the subjects he cared about the most were crammed into that week.

“I don’t think I’m going to survive the first week.” Kíli could not help but complain to Fíli during their lunch break. “Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Herbology. I’ll be chuffed if I’m still breathing by the end of it.”

Fíli made a strangled noise. The number of words coming out of his mouth had reduced so drastically that Kíli was seriously contemplating the possibility that each word uttered was going to use up one’s magical reservoir if such a thing even exists. On the other hand, the number of different noises one could make and the surprisingly clear meaning each conveyed were astonishing. In the end, he took pity on Fíli, whose face was turning paler the longer he stared at his timetable. “It’ll be fine. You’ve got absolutely nothing to worry about. You’re the only one who’s been getting Os in all your homework in the past month. And didn’t Professor Thorin say that he’s been marking our homework in a standard higher than O.W.L.s?”

“But my Defence Against the Dark Arts homework hasn’t been that good.” Fíli finally opened his mouth to speak. “I barely scraped an O. Professor Dwalin commented on my homework and said that I needed more practice. What if I mess that one up?”

It took a lot of willpower not to make any clever remarks on Fíli’s ‘scraped an O’ comment. “You won’t. Professor Dwalin’s just being picky, like Professor Thorin. I’ve seen your spellwork. It’s great. Come on, we’ve had all those extra lessons with Professor Dwalin. They’ve got to count for something!”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the day finally came for the first exam, Charms, Kíli was almost relieved. One way or the other, they were going to see their first 5 years of magical education come to fruition. The fact that Fíli would soon turn back to normal did add to the appeal. After breakfast, the 5th year students stayed in the Great Hall as instructed. Kíli watched in fascination as Professor Dwalin, their examiner for Charms, transformed the four House tables into individual desks with a set of anti-cheating stationery on each. Once they were seated, Professor Dwalin handed them their paper and started the exam.

Bending down with a slightly trembling hand, Kíli flipped the paper over and read the first question with bated breath. From the corner of his eyes, he could see that Fíli, who was two seats to his left, was already writing furiously on his parchment.

_Please describe a) the incantation and wand movement to open a locked door, b) its counter-charm, and c) the complex interaction between the two spells._

Kíli felt his heartbeat slowly return to normal. This was not that different from their homework assignment after all. He could do this.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Kíli said carefully when they were waiting for Professor Dwalin to transfigure the desks back to the House tables for lunch. “I mean, the questions got harder towards the end and I was a bit rushed for time. But overall, there’s nothing we haven’t seen, is there?”

Fíli smiled. “Yeah. I feel alright about the exam actually. It went a lot smoother than I thought. I’m sure the afternoon practical exam will be better.”

Kíli could not help but agree. He had always enjoyed practical exams more than theory ones, apart from Potions, in which he dreaded both. The only thing he found unnerving about the practical exam was the wait. As there were only four examiners from the Ministry for their practical exam, all the students lined up outside the Great Hall for their names to be called in alphabetical order. Gimli and Fíli, however, were fortunate enough to be called in the first group while Kíli waited patiently. None of the students who had finished the exam returned so Kíli had no way of knowing how it went for Fíli or Gimli. As much as he was confident about his Charms, the sense of dread increased as he waited that by the time his name was called, Kíli could feel his hand gripping his wand so hard that he might snap it in two.

“Professor Tofty is waiting for yeh at table 3,” Dwalin said with an encouraging smile. “Good luck, laddie.”

Each step towards Professor Tofty seemed to last a century for Kíli, who could feel the old shrivelled examiner’s look, which was, though not unkind, certainly curious, fixed on him. Not sure what to make of it, because Kíli was sure he had never met Professor Tofty before, he settled for a nervous smile when he was standing in front of the old professor.

“Very curious,” said Professor Tofty so softly that Kíli almost did not catch it.

“I beg your pardon, sir.”

“Forgive me.” Professor Tofty smiled at him. “Now, could you make these egg cups do some cartwheels for me?”

The practical exam lasted no more than 15 minutes, during which Kíli grew more and more confident. He had executed all the spells perfectly while from the corner of his eye he could see his classmates struggling with various spells. When he was done, much earlier than his classmates, Kíli felt brave enough to ask Professor Tofty, who was smiling fondly at him, about his soft exclamation earlier. “Excuse me, sir. But what do you mean by very curious when you first saw me?”

Professor Tofty looked genuinely taken aback, possibly because no students had ever attempted a bit of a chinwag with him during an O.W.L. exam. “I am very sorry, Mister Durin. I should not have done that. I did not mean to distract you from your exam.”

“I’m not distracted,” Kíli assured him quickly. “Just curious is al.”

“Well,” Professor Tofty sighed and gave in, seeing that Kíli was not planning to give up, “I was simply surprised by your appearance. One does not see many Half-Bloods, particularly one of Dwarvish blood. Most curious. My surprise was only amplified since you resemble both your parents, whom I have the pleasure of examining for both their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. Extraordinary wizards, even your mother, especially when you consider her Blood Status. It seems that you have inherited their brilliance, against all the odds.”

Left completely stunned by the answer, Kíli stood frozen on the spot, unable to formulate a proper response. Fortunately, he was saved from the trouble by Dwalin, who came to him and gently ushered him away so the next student could be tested.

“What’s wrong?” Fíli asked anxiously when he saw Kíli, who was still in a daze after his conversation with Professor Tofty. “You didn’t mess up your exam, did you?”

“No,” Kíli said automatically, “the exam went fine, great even.”

Fíli frowned. “Then what’s the problem.”

“Well…” Kíli then proceeded to tell him the entire conversation. Fíli’s eyebrows travelled up further and further as the story went on that it ran the serious risk of disappearing completely from his face by the end of it.

“You’ve got to be joking!” Fíli cried once Kíli was done. “How could he say something like that? You’re just as worthy as any other wizards, if not more! And I’m sure your mum was far better than the majority of those stuffy old Purebloods. I’m so sick of this blood status talk. It’s utter bollocks!”

In spite of himself, Kíli grinned. It was rather uncharacteristic of Fíli to lose control like this and he was secretly glad that he was the cause of it. “Thanks, mate. I don’t think he means any harm. He’s treated me well during the exam and my question at the end probably caught him by surprise.”

“He still shouldn’t have said that,” Fíli said firmly. “The prejudice is just ridiculous.”

Now that he knew how Fíli felt about it, Kíli was much more comfortable with the situation himself. “It’s alright. He’s positively ancient and probably has a very outdated idea about blood purity and stuff. I’m fine, really. If anything, I’m quite glad I’ve proved him wrong. My exam this afternoon went quite well.”

“Good!” Fíli said seriously. “Now you go and prove all those bigots and naysayers wrong. Wait until your Defence Against the Dark Arts practical exam. They’ll know what a truly gifted wizard is like!”

Fíli’s wish was soon answered, for it was Professor Tofty who examined Kíli again during the Defence Against the Dark Arts practical exam. This time, Kíli was a lot calmer. His morning theory paper went extremely well. He was able to answer all the questions with ease and even added some bonus material simply because he could. Even his Transfiguration exams went not badly the day before. If, however, there was one exam he was utterly confident about, it was the Defence Against the Dark Arts practical exam. None of the questions from Professor Tofty presented any challenges. Feeling daring, Kíli even used a Shield Charm, which was so strong that it forced Professor Tofty to duck out of its way when a simple counter-jinx would do.

“Bravo!” Professor Tofty clapped his withered hands, looking genuinely impressed now. “It’s clear that your knowledge of the Defence Against the Dark Arts extends way beyond the regular school curriculum.”

Kíli grinned. “I’ve got a brilliant teacher and I do love to learn.”

“Hmm,” Professor Tofty’s eyes sparkled with interest, “if you don’t mind, could you show me, for some bonus points, of course, the most advanced spell you can cast?”

Even though Kíli was quite certain that he would score an “O” in Defence Against the Dark Arts, he did not mind showing off a bit. “I can do a Patronus Charm. Will that do?”

“Oh, mine,” Professor Tofty cried softly. “Of course, please.”

Focusing his entire being on the happiest thought, which inevitably involved Fíli, Kíli smiled and said clearly, “Expecto Patronum”.

The silvery panther that erupted out of his wand was the strongest and most powerful one he had ever seen. It sauntered towards him almost lazily in its feline grace and nuzzled his leg affectionately before pouncing towards Professor Tofty, who let out a soft cry of surprise, which turned into a smile when Kíli’s Patronus panther stopped right in front of him and eyes him curiously. “Sweet Merlin! Very well done, indeed, Mister Durin!”

“Thanks.” Kíli smiled and pocketed his wand. As he walked out of the room, he could not help but notice the astonished look on everyone else’s face. He grinned. That was right. He was a great wizard, regardless of his blood status. Because it did not matter. It never should anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of O.W.L.s brought unexpected trouble and an unwelcome guest.

If there was one exam that was going to give Kíli anxiety, along with a couple of possible ulcers, it was Potions. Despite a shaky start, it was by no means his worst subject now, thanks to Fíli’s helping hand countless times and Thorin’s much-changed attitude towards him. Yet his goals, which was to get at least an “O” in his O.W.L. to ensure his continued enrollment in the class, looked more like a daydream than a remote possibility.

“You look like death warmed up,” Gimli chirped happily when Kíli sat down next to him and Fíli during breakfast. He had woken up late because he could barely sleep the night before, tossing and turning in bed until dawn.

“Thanks, Gim,” Kíli said while fighting a yawn. “Always a ray of sunshine, aren’t you? Could you pass me the coffee, please?”

Fíli looked remarkably calm, maybe because it was Friday and the end of the first gruelling exam week. “You’ll be fine. Uncle has prepared us well for the exam. You’ll probably find the exam questions a walk in the park compared to uncle’s essays.”

The Potions written exam, as it turned out, was certainly not as hard as Kíli had amped it up to be. Kíli found that he could answer most of the questions without too much difficulty. He did run slightly out of time towards the end, which did not overly concern him partly because he doubted that he would be able to answer the last and most difficult question anyway but more importantly because the majority of his classmates shared the same fate. Not Fíli though. When Kíli looked up to check the time with 5 minutes to go, he could see that Fíli had already set his quill down and was merely checking over his answers. This did not surprise him. What did was that Bolg did the same not 1 minute later. Did he just give up? Surely he couldn’t have improved so much.

The afternoon practical exam took place with all the students inside the dungeon, possibly to spare the rest of the students the smell and possible toxicity of the potions. The potion they were asked to brew, the Calming Draught, was time-consuming but not necessarily difficult. Kíli was, therefore, surprised to hear a loud explosion noise from the back of the room. Whipping his head around just like everybody else, he saw Bolg’s face, covered in something green, emerge from the puff of smoke. Hissing in pain, he had to be taken out of the room by Professor Marchbank, who was their examiner at the time, presumably to the Hospital Wing. So perhaps his early finish in the morning’s practical exam was no sign of genius after all.

“That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?” Gimli said conversationally after the exam was over. “Certainly made things more interesting.”

Kíli wished he could share Gimli’s casual attitude. Something about Bolg’s behaviour struck him as rather strange. “I thought he’s alright at Potions. He’s never blown up a cauldron at class before.”

Gimli shrugged. “Must have cracked. Loads people do, the pressure of exams, you know? Hannah Abbott was so nervous during Transfiguration that she accidentally transformed Professor Tofty into a Flamingo. It took all the examiners and Lady Galadriel to transform him back because he kept flapping his wings at them.”

Momentarily lost in the rather fascinating picture Gimli had painted, Kíli almost forgot his original point. “Well, maybe. But I saw him finish this morning’s Potions paper early. So he must have done quite well then. How can he crack all of a sudden?”

While Gimli still looked unimpressed by Kíli’s obsession, Fíli was clearly more interested. “That is interesting. Now that you come to mention it, I don’t think Bolg’s doing particularly well in any of his practical exams so far.”

Kíli raised an eyebrow. “How do you know? His surname starts with G.”

“Lindir told me, of course. Where he got the information, I have no idea. But apparently, Bolg has been unable to perform a lot of the more complex spells, which is rather odd considering how hard he has studied over this past year.”

“That just proves it, doesn’t it?” Gimli said with a shrug. “He’s an Orc. Of course he’s going to be pants at Light magic. It’s in his blood. No amount of studying can change that.”

Kíli frowned. Normally this kind of statement would not raise any eyebrows, for he too found Bolg and in general all Orcs inherently, if not evil, at least dark. After the comment of Professor Tofty, however, Kíli was a lot more sensitive to talks of blood status. It was thus rather startling for him to realise that they had applied the same prejudice against the Orcs without any compunction. Even though his heart was urging him to subscribe to Gimli’s ideas, his head made it quite clear that if he did, he was no better than Bolg, who held Kíli’s heritage against him.

“You really shouldn’t say things like that.” It was Ori who chastised Gimli. “Bolg may be an Orc but he can still change. His blood doesn’t define him.”

Gimli shrugged. “Well, he could have fooled me with his absolutely lovely demeanour and cheerful personality.”

Ori rolled his eyes and ignored him. “I think something’s wrong with him. He’s not usually that bad in class, not this year anyway.”

This revelation did not exactly comfort Kíli. Part of him wanted to feel compassion for Bolg because it must be extremely disheartening to develop any conditions at such a critical juncture. Part of him, however, was still not easy. Something was up, he was sure of it.

The weekend came as a welcome break that everyone desperately needed. It was not, however, time to relax yet. They had still got another week of exams ahead of them. The second week, however, was much more manageable. Since nobody was insane enough to take all the electives, they had more free periods to either revise or cry. Ori was the only one amongst their little group to sit Divination on Monday so Kíli and Gimli decided to spend Saturday afternoon flying outside to clear their brain. Fíli, of course, would not consent to such time-wasting activities and spent his time revising in the library.

“He needs to relax,” Gimli said on their way to the Quidditch Pitch. “Balance. That’s what you need. Bet you anything that Fíli’ll still be studying after the exams are over.”

As much as Kíli agreed with Gimli’s idea that Fíli needed to relax, he thought Gimli was a bit unfair. “Of course he wouldn’t. Fíli’s not that mad about studying.”

Gimli shrugged. “Of course you’d say that. You think that the sun shines out of his arse.”

“Gimli!”

“Fine.” Gimli held up his hands in surrender. “But honestly. Fíli will say yes if Galion assigns him patrol duty next Friday night while everyone else’s celebrating because, you know, it’s his duty.”

This Kíli could not dispute. Fíli took his Prefect duty a lot more seriously than Gimli so Kíli knew that he would feel obliged to sacrifice his own enjoyment in fulfilling his responsibilities. “Let’s just hope that Galion won’t pick him then.”

“And me,” Gimli said seriously. “Because I intend on getting absolutely pissed after the final day of exams. I’ve got two, mind you. Not to mention that History of Magic is the last one. Mahal, I can’t wait for the exams to be over!”

The universe, however, loves to play tricks on Gimli, for when their last exam, History of Magic, was over, Gimli found himself in front of Galion, who had been waiting outside the Great Hall to speak to him while the other students filed out of the room.

“Hi Gimli,” said Galion cheerfully, “I’ve finalised the patrol timetable. Since the Sixth year Prefects did all the patrolling during the exam weeks, it will be our time to do the job now. You and I will take up tonight’s shi…”

“No bloody chance!” Gimli practically roared with indignation, spit flying out of his mouth. “We’ve got a party to attend. You can patrol the castle all you want but I’m not going!”

Galion stood up a little straighter, his face hard with anger at Gimli’s impertinence and spit shower. “There’s no room for discussion! It’s been decided. Someone has to make the sacrifice and it is our turn. It is high time that you take your Prefect responsibilities seriously. You’re in charge of the ground floor and the dungeons.”

“I don’t give a damn what I’m in charge of!” Gimli said with badly concealed anger. “Because I’m not doing it! I’m getting pissed tonight and nothing and no one, especially not a shite Head Boy like you, can stop me.”

“Maybe I can switch with Gimli,” Fíli said quickly before the situation deteriorated any further. “I don’t mind not going to the party.”

Gimli grinned triumphantly at Galion, who, to everyone’s surprise, stood his ground. “No, Fíli. You’ve done your job remarkably well throughout the entire year. It’s time Gimli does the same. It will be his turn tonight and nobody else’s.” With that, he turned resolutely on his heels and marched away without a backward glance.

“Then you’re responsible for whatever mayhem that will happen tonight,” cried Gimli at Galion’s retreating form, “because I’ve told you that I’m not bloody doing it!”

“Gimli,” Fíli said imploringly, “please, it’s just one night. I’m sure the party will still be on when you’re done.”

“No,” Gimli said, “I’m not doing it on principle. And you’re not going to do it either. It’s Galion’s trouble. Maybe he really should learn to do his job properly before ordering other people around.”

Before Fíli could reply, Legolas’s voice made them all jump. “Galion’s right. You should take your responsibilities more seriously. Someone’s got to do it. It could have been any of us and none of us would have protested. It just happens to be you.”

“Oh, sod off, Your Highness,” Gimli said with a snarl. “I know you love it because you just can’t help but lord over people!”

Legolas, who was standing next to Bolg, gave him a deeply offended look. Even Bolg shook his head. “You’re way out of line, Azanulbizar.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” If anything, Gimli was even more agitated now. “How’s dad doing?”

“Come on, let’s go.” Fíli and Ori practically had to drag Gimli away before he could end up either at the wand tip of Bolg or worse in a spontaneous duel with both Slytherins. Gimli could not, after all, enjoy himself later if he were to be in detention with Mister Alfrid.

The party that night started right after dinner, which was the most exuberant in Kíli’s memory, unmatched even by the Quidditch ones. All the other students, who had also finished their final exams, joined the Fifth and Seventh years in celebration. Even though each House had their own party, the participants were not limited to their Housemates. Students roamed freely in the castle before curfew to go to different Houses. Kíli was dragged into the Ravenclaw and even the Hufflepuff ones before settling in the Gryffindor Common Room with Fíli, Ori, and Gimli.

The room was almost unrecognisable from its usual state. All the armchairs were pushed to the walls to create a large dance floor in the middle. Tables upon tables of food and drinks lined the walls, which were decorated festively with bright colour ribbons and banners of all the houses. Kíli thought he spotted some fairies flying above. It was a bit hard to tell because someone had decided to set off some of the evil twins’ fireworks, making the room a bit hazy.

“Are you sure you are not patrolling tonight?” Fíli asked for perhaps the twentieth time that night. “Maybe I should…”

“No!” Gimli grabbed Fíli’s hand and said forcefully. “Neither of us are going out of the Gryffindor Common Room. Here,” he thrust a glass of Firewhiskey into Fíli’s hand. “Drink up. Let’s toast to the end of the blasted exams.” 

“But…”

“Don’t be a killjoy.” Gimli knocked his shot down without any hesitation. “It’s not even your problem, Fíli. Besides, what’s really going to happen, eh? I’m sure Hogwarts can survive one night without me.”

Fíli’s further protest was interrupted by Tauriel and Angelina, who were more than a bit tipsy, staggered towards them, both giggling madly. While Gimli needed little persuasion to join Angelina on the dance floor, Fíli had to be cajoled into dancing with Tauriel. Kíli could not help but laugh at Fíli’s awkwardness while Tauriel danced away with pure joy. Next to them, Gimli and Angelina danced so exuberantly that other couples had to scramble away to get out of their way.

“She looks really happy, doesn’t she?”

Kíli jumped, splashing some butterbeer down his front, at McLaggen’s voice. McLaggen grinned. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Kíli smiled awkwardly. Despite being teammates for almost two years, Kíli still did not know McLaggen well enough to have this kind of heart to heart with him, especially since they used to compete for Tauriel’s affection. “I suppose.” He then could not help but ask. “Are you and Angelina…”

McLaggen laughed. “I thought everybody knows already. Yes, Angie and I are going out.”

This Kíli did find quite odd. He still remembered McLaggen’s obsession with Tauriel when he was going out with their Quidditch Captain. Moreover, Angelina was too good and too popular to be going out with McLaggen, who pestered Angelina to the point of hexing him earlier that year. “That’s, er, really nice.”

“Thanks, mate,” McLaggen said with a smile, which was for once not cocky. “I know Angie’s probably too good for me but I can’t just give her up without a fight. You can’t imagine how happy and scared I was when she agreed to go out with me. I thought I’d cock it up royally but look at how happy she is. At least I seem to be doing something right.”

Kíli smiled. Whatever McLaggen might be like before, he seemed to have changed. The fact that he was standing here, talking amiably with Kíli while Angelina danced with others, now a Seventh year Ravenclaw Elf, was living proof. “Congratulations, Cormac. I hope you’ll both be very happy.”

The party lasted well into the night. Kíli was only vaguely aware of what happened towards the end. He was, at least, functional enough to climb back into his dormitory, albeit with Fíli’s help, where they both collapsed in Kíli’s bed. Gimli, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. The last thing that Kíli remembered was something he wished to purge from his memory forever because nobody needed to see Gimli performing a striptease in the middle of Gryffindor Common Room.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ He was lying under the beech tree next to the Black Lake, the shadow of the leaves providing some reprieve from the sunlight above. The breeze from the lake caressed his cheeks while the sound of splashing water lulled him to sleep. It was such a perfect moment that he did not want to let it go. Sighing with content, Kíli stretched his arms and arched his back leisurely, lifting himself temporarily from his human pillow. The laughter from behind made him smile. Even though his eyes were closed, Kíli could still feel the tickling sensation of Fíli’s hair falling on his face and a feathery kiss on his forehead. This was pure heaven. Nothing could ruin the moment. _

“Where’s Gimli? Where in the name of Merlin’s hairiest balls is that bloody Dwarf?”

The shrill voices made Kíli jump as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on him. Unfortunately, he was more entangled with Fíli than he had realised.

“Sorry, sorry,” Kíli said desperately as Fíli massaged his head groggily. Looking up, he was astonished to find himself face to face with an utterly distraught Galion. “What the hell?”

“Where’s Gimli?” Galion’s eyes searched the room in sheer desperation. “He’s supposed to be patrolling last night.”

Kíli raised his eyebrows. If that was the only reason why Galion had burst into their dormitory so early in the morning, the Head Boy was barmier than he had previously imagined. “Er, right. He didn’t go. It’s not that big of a deal, is it? It was right after O.W.L.s after all.”

Fíli, however, grasped the severity of the situation much faster. Sitting up straight, he asked without preamble. “What happened?”

“Legolas’s gone.”

“What do you mean gone?” Kíli felt that the amount of residue alcohol in his system was seriously hindering his ability to think, for he simply could not comprehend what Galion was talking about.

“What else can it mean?” Galion shrieked, pulling his hair hysterically. “I can’t find him!”

Fíli tried his best to make the most out of this situation. “How can you be sure that he’s gone? He could have been staying at another House, given last night’s activities.”

Galion shook his head. “He’s supposed to meet me this morning to go over Prefect duties for the remainder of the school year. I waited for half an hour and he didn’t turn up. Legolas’s never late. I rushed to his dormitory but it was empty. He’s not in the Slytherin Common Room either.”

“But how do you know he’s not in another…”

“I checked with the students in Slytherin,” Galion wailed. “He didn’t leave the Slytherin House last night. You know them. They don’t usually socialise outside of their House. We roused the whole House but he was nowhere to be found. What am I supposed to do? Lord Thranduil will skin me alive!”

Even though Kíli still distrusted Galion’s judgement, he understood the Head Boy’s sentiment or why he was here. “I’m sorry. But Gimli didn’t patrol last night. I’m afraid he can’t help you.”

The look on Galion’s face was so miserable that Kíli could not help but feel sorry for him. Despite his many deficiencies, Galion did take his responsibilities seriously. “What can we do to help?”

“I don’t know…” Galion said despondently, his shoulders sagged as if all air and life had been let out of him. “I suppose I have to go and report this to the Headmaster. I can’t see how I can keep this hushed up any longer.”

“We’ll go with you,” Fíli said firmly as he started putting his robes on. “I’m sure uncle could use some help. He might know it already if the whole Slytherin House knows.”

On their way down, it was Kíli who spotted Gimli, his face partially covered by Ori’s robes and snoring loudly. Before Kíli could alert his company of this discovery, Galion saw the same thing and his reaction was the most violent Kíli had ever seen. Taking several long strides towards the huddle of unconscious bodies, Galion grabbed Gimli by the collar and lifted him up with inhuman strength that Kíli did not know the slender Elf possessed.

“Where in the name of Merlin were you last night?” Gimli shook Gimli so violently that Gimli finally woke up.

“What?” Even though his eyes were open, Gimli’s mind was apparently still too marinated in alcohol to function. “What’s the matter?”

“Legolas’s gone missing and it’s your fault!” Galion had finally set Gimli down, possibly due to Gimli’s weight. “You’re supposed to be patrolling there! It wouldn’t have happened if you’ve done your bloody job!”

“Galion, please,” Fíli pleaded with him, “we’ve got to go and inform the Headmaster.”

Galion had finally released his stranglehold on Gimli. With one last contemptuous look, he marched out of the Gryffindor Common Room. Fíli and Kíli followed suit. Just as he stepped out of the portrait hole, Kíli caught a glimpse of Gimli’s astonished face. He felt bad for his friend. He knew that no matter how much Gimli complained about Legolas, he did not want any real harm to come to the Slytherin Prefect.

To everyone’s surprise, Gandalf was not alone in his office. On the contrary, his office was more crowded than usual, with Thorin, Dwalin, Bilbo, Lady Galadriel and a tall wizard inside. Even though Kíli had never met the newcomer before, one look at his regal figure, haughty face, and silvery blond hair meant only one possibility. Legolas’s father, Thranduil, was here. Galion’s face, which was anxious enough to start with, now turned ashen grey.

“Ah, there you are, Galion Mirkwood.” Even though he was merely a guest, Thranduil, who was sitting in the chair in front of Gandalf’s office as if it were a throne, spoke first. “I take it that the unfortunate situation has finally penetrated your thick skull.”

Kíli frowned. The lazy drawl of Thranduil’s baritone voice was not unpleasant to the ear, except its tone. Even at first glance, Kíli felt that Thranduil was the living proof of contradictions. He was, without any doubt, an extremely handsome Elf with sharp features, piercing blue eyes, fair youthful skin that defies time, and tall and well-built stature. Yet there was no warmth in him, no smile on his handsome face, only pursed lips full of cold arrogance and contempt, which more than marred his beauty. Moreover, he could not understand how a father could stand so detached and aloof in the face of his own child’s potential peril. “How do you know what happened to Legolas?”

Slowly, Thranduil’s blue eyes turned to Kíli. The sneer on his face only grew when he realised who Kíli was. Behind him, Dwalin growled in anger. “Kíli Durin,” drawled Thranduil, “the Half-Blood spawn of Frerin Durin and his Muggleborn witch. Here you are, standing in complete ignorance in the presence of your superior. But then again, given your unfortunate upbringing, your insolence is to be expected.” 

Barely had those words left Thranduil’s mouth that two wands were drawn against him, Dwalin’s and Fíli’s. Thorin, though his wand was still inside his robes, took a menacing step forward, his face so stormy with anger that any lesser wizard could have quavered. Thranduil, to his credit, stood his ground. “You will not speak to Kíli in such manner ever again, Thranduil Greenleaf, lest you wish to incur my wrath. Do you understand me?”

Thranduil’s lips curled unpleasantly. “Defending a Half-Blood. You have certainly gone off the deep end, Thorin, even for you.”

Thorin bared his teeth like a lion and seethed so angrily that Kíli feared he might spring up and tear Thranduil’s head off, quite literally. “Kíli’s more of a wizard than both you, a coward who shrunk away from his duties during the war to save his own hide, and your son, an idiot who worships a father neither honourable nor courageous so much that he has no basic integrity and judgement left.”

For the first time, Thranduil’s face betrayed his emotions. “Don’t you dare talk about my son like that!”

“Please, gentlemen!” Gandalf, it seemed, had finally had enough. Standing up from his seat to his full height, Gandalf strode towards them, positioning himself strategically between Thranduil and the rest of the group. “Antagonising each other gets us nowhere, especially in such a dire situation when every bit of help is critical. Mister Thranduil,” he turned to Thranduil, “could you please explain to us all how you come to realise that your son is in danger.”

Rising from his chair, which allowed him to tower over everyone, even Gandalf, Thranduil shot the Dwarves one last contemptuous look before saying, “I have placed a blood trace on my son so I track his whereabouts.”

“A blood trace?” Kíli gasped. “You’re tracking your son’s movement every single minute? That’s insane, not to mention extremely controlling.”

Thranduil closed his eyes as if praying for patience. “Mister Durin, I am sure that your status as a penniless orphan means that you are both incapable of understanding political intrigue and of no importance to warrant such understanding. But my son is my only heir, who thus attracts much-unwanted attention, not all of them benign. I deem it my duty to take every measure to ensure my son’s safety.”

“We all understand your concern,” Bilbo said quickly. “I worry about my nephew Frodo all the time, even though he’s hardly one to attract trouble. So I suppose the trace has alerted you of the bad news.”

“It simply tells me that Legolas has left the castle when I checked it this morning,” said Thranduil, slightly mollified. “To find the exact location, I need to narrow down the search area.”

“Why?” Kíli blurted out the question before he could stop himself. Next to him, Fíli groaned.

“Because…” It was Gandalf who answered, presumably because he surmised that Thranduil’s patience was not to be tested, “this kind of spell takes a lot of energy and magic. To use it over a large area is impractical, bordering on suicidal.”

“Precisely,” said Thranduil haughtily. “I’m hoping that some of you,” he turned his gaze fixedly on Thorin, who bristled at the sneering look, “can shed some light on my son’s whereabouts, assuming that you know how to do your job.”

Glaring at Thranduil’s insult, Thorin looked as if he would rather eat Hippogriff dung than answer the question. In the end, he relented. “I can confirm that he was in the Slytherin Common Room when I last checked on them last night. He was, understandably, slightly inebriated but by no means debilitated, mentally or physically. When he answered my questions about the party, he was in possession of his full faculty. He planned to conclude the party and retire to his dormitory immediately. I have not made it down to the Slytherin Common Room yet this morning but I guess it’s safe to assume that he is not there.”

“No, sir,” Galion said in a low voice. “He was supposed to meet with me this morning but he didn’t turn up. I, I got worried so I went to the Slytherin Common Room. He wasn’t there. We’ve searched the whole place but…” his voice trailed off.

Thranduil pursed his lips, which had the same effect on Galion as an Acromantula on Kíli. “I see…”

Thorin did not seem impressed either. “It is safe to assume that Legolas disappeared some time last night. What about the patrolling last night? Did the Prefect see anything suspicious?”

If possible, Galion turned ever paler. “Er, no…”

“Nothing at all?” Gandalf pressed. “Any little piece of information could be helpful.”

Even though Kíli had never thought much of Galion, he had to respect the Head Boy for not giving Gimli away even when he was shaking like a leaf under such intense pressure. “No, I don’t think so.”

Dwalin was the most impatient. “What’s the matter with yeh, laddie? Who’s the Prefect patrolling the dungeon last night? Tell us so we can ask them.”

Galion closed his eyes and sighed, “Gimli was supposed to patrol last night.”

No further explanation was needed. The stormy expression on Thorin’s face and the disbelieving one on Dwalin’s said it all. Thranduil, on the other hand, looked positively murderous. “So a Dwarf,” he put particular emphasis on the word, his nostrils flaring “has failed my son. What a surprise.”

“It’s not Gimli’s fault!” Kíli piped up at once. “He didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“What we need right now,” Lady Galadriel, who had been a silent observer until then, said softly, interrupting Thranduil’s angry retort, “is not to assign blame. We need to find any eyewitness that might help us.”

“Why don’t we ask Bolg?” Kíli thought the lot of them were being purposefully obtuse. “He shares the same dorm as Legolas, doesn’t he? He must know something.”

“I’m afraid that is not possible.” Thorin’s lips were pressed into a thin line. “Bolg is not in the castle. He requested to leave the castle after the exams were over. He wanted to go home so he could visit his father in Azkaban. I understood the sentiment so I granted him permission.” He frowned. “He asked to use my fireplace today because he did not wish to miss the party last night. He must have changed his mind and left after the party instead.”

The snort from Thranduil was the first sign of frustration Kíli had witnessed on the stoic Elf aristocrat. “Somebody must know something. I don’t care if we need to interrogate the entire Slytherin House. I need to know the rough location of my son now.”

“Why don’t you try Barad-dûr, if your Blood Trace can penetrate its curses, of course?” said Fíli softly. Everyone’s eyes fell on him immediately but that did little to faze him.

“Of course my Blood Trace can. It’s the only one powerful enough to do so. But what do you mean Barad-dûr?” Thranduil asked sharply. “Why would my son be in Barad-dûr?”

Fíli held Thranduil’s gaze with remarkable composure. “During Christmas, a disturbance was reported in Barad-dûr, which required a trip from uncle and Professor Gandalf. Less than a couple of months ago, Kíli Sensed a very dark force, very possibly in the castle. He also thought that he had seen the ghost of Bloody, Azog’s House Elf who had been kissed by the dementor. I did not give it much credence at the time,” he shot Kíli an apologetic look, “because I knew that Bloody cannot have a ghost. Yet I think it’s prudent to pursue this line of inquiry. I do not wish to alarm anyone but these events might be connected. If so, we need to at the very least rule out that Legolas is not kidnapped for similar nefarious reasons.”

The room fell silent. Kíli could not help but feel immense pride in Fíli's statement. There his best friend was, amongst far older and more powerful wizards, yet still so self-assured and insightful that he had provided the best and most logical solution to outsmart everyone else. From the corner of his eyes, Kíli could see the hint of a smile on Thorin’s face. He had taught his nephew well.

“Thank you, Mister Fíli.” Gandalf smiled kindly at Fíli before turning to Thranduil. “Thranduil, if you will?”

Without a word, Thranduil took out his wand, long, smooth, and elegant just like his person, and muttered a long spell. Immediately Kíli could feel the powerful magic emanating out of the wand, which Fíli, Galion, and Bilbo seemed completely ignorant of. Gandalf and Lady Galadriel, however, shot Thranduil concerned looks while Thorin and Dwalin looked on with indifference.

“I’ve found him,” Thranduil gasped a minute later. It was only thanks to Gandalf’s quick hand that he was prevented from falling to the ground. The spell to activate the Blood Trace, it seemed, had taken quite a toll on him.

“Legolas is indeed in Barad-dûr?” Lady Galadriel sounded alarmed. “But how?”

Thranduil sat down heavily on his chair, looking as if he had aged 10 years. “I don’t know. He must be taken there against his will. Even though I don’t know the specifics, I know that my son is in grave danger.” He looked up at Gandalf and for the first time, his composed facade faltered. “I need your help, please, to get my son out. I cannot do it by myself.”

Gandalf nodded solemnly. “Of course I will, Lord Thranduil. Legolas is my student, under my care, and therefore my responsibility.” He hesitated before continuing. “I cannot speak for anyone else but I fear that even the combined effort of you and me shall prove futile in the face of the powerful magic of Barad-dûr.”

“I’m going with yeh,” Dwalin said immediately. “Yeh need all the help yeh can get.”

“I’m going too.” Thorin looked equally grave. “Legolas is a Slytherin and I cannot let any harm come to a Slytherin while I’m still the Head of the House.”

Lady Galadriel opened her mouth but Gandalf interrupted her gently. “I understand your desire to go, My Lady. Yet someone must remain behind to safeguard our school and the students, especially as I fear that the abduction of Legolas might be a feint move to draw us away from the castle, leaving its defence much weakened. It is, therefore, a task so critical that I cannot imagine entrusting to anyone else.”

Lady Galadriel’s beautiful face was filled with not only understanding but also concerns. “I understand, Gandalf. I shall stay. With the four of you, the most powerful wizards I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, working together towards a noble goal, I believe that you stand a chance. May Aulë and Ilúvatar be with you.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The disappearance of Legolas and Bolg had everyone mobilised to help rescue the missing students. Yet help might come from an unexpected source.

It seemed that nobody but Kíli had noticed that Bilbo was assigned no task, neither to march into Barad-dûr nor to defend the castle, though the latter might very well be implied. To Kíli’s surprise, Bilbo did not seem offended by the omission. Instead, he walked up to shake Gandalf’s hand, patted Dwalin on the back, and nodded at Thorin before leaving the room.

“Come on,” Kíli whispered to Fíli, “let’s see what Professor Bilbo’s up to.”

Fíli looked between Kíli and Thorin and said nothing. Kíli, however, understood what he was thinking immediately. “It’s alright,” He said quietly. “You stay here and say goodbye to your uncle. I’ll tail Professor Bilbo. You can find me in his office afterwards.”

Finding Bilbo’s office, however, turned out to be trickier than Kíli thought. Given his love for Herbology, Bilbo spent most of his time in the Green Houses, even outside of classes. Luckily for Kíli, he ran into Ori.

“I’ve been looking for you, Kíli!” Ori said with an ancient and dilapidated tome in his hand and an urgent look on his face. “I’ve just found this book on…”

“Sorry Ori but I haven’t got time now,” Kíli said quickly. “I need to find Professor Bilbo. Do you know where his office is?”

Ori frowned. “Of course, it’s on the second floor, not far from Professor Bard’s in that corner. But what…”

Kíli could not wait for him to finish before dashing in that direction, with a vague “I’ll tell you later”. He only stopped running when he was outside Bilbo’s office.

The door to Bilbo’s office was left ajar, possibly due to Bilbo’s haste to get into preparation. Kíli hesitated only a moment before creeping close to the door and peeking into the room, hoping against hope that nobody would come across this part of the castle.

Unsurprisingly, the room of Bilbo was decorated with all sorts of magical plants, which made it difficult to see inside. With his back to the door, it was hard to see what Bilbo was doing. If Kíli had to guess, however, he was inclined to believe that Bilbo was looking for something on his desk.

And it seemed that he had found it. After a yelp of triumph, Bilbo turned around and marched towards the door, his wand in his hand, the usual jovial smile on his face replaced with a look of utter determination. At first, Kíli thought he was leaving the room, only to realise that he was grabbing his travelling cloak before heading towards the fireplace. Kíli knew that he had no time to lose so he acted on his instinct and charged into the room.

“Kíli!” Bilbo cried in surprise when he whipped around only to see Kíli standing right behind him. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you going somewhere, sir?” Kíli asked the almost redundant question. The travelling cloak Bilbo was wearing combined with the fireplace were more than a bit of a giveaway.

“I…” Bilbo looked flustered and his face turned quickly pink. Kíli had his suspicion confirmed right there and then. “Are you going to Barad-dûr?”

The question drove all the awkwardness on Bilbo’s face away. Instead, he puffed his chest up and stood up a bit straighter. “I know what you must be thinking. What can helpless Professor Bilbo do if powerful wizards like Gandalf and Lady Galadriel can’t even conquer the enemy? He should just stay in the castle with his good food and plants.”

There was simply too much truth in that statement to be disputed. The fact that Bilbo was the only professor who seemed unperturbed by Thranduil’s magic was proof enough. No matter how much he wanted to agree, however, Kíli had finally learnt to hold his tongue, mostly because he was very fond of Bilbo and thus had no wish to hurt his feelings. “So you don’t think they can get into Barad-dûr?” They were some of the most powerful wizards after all.

Bilbo shook his head. “Barad-dûr is only accessible via dark magic. They may try but I remain doubtful that their attempts will amount to much. I thought,” he hesitated before continuing, “I thought I could help.”

Even though it made sense, Kíli still found it odd that Bilbo did not volunteer back in Gandalf’s office. “So you’re joining them?”

If possible, Bilbo turned even redder. “Er, no. I’m going by myself.”

Kíli’s mouth fell open. Could anyone blame him though? “You’ve got to be joking.”

If Kíli did not know any better, he would say that Bilbo was glaring at him. “I’ve got weapons you know not of, Kíli. I must try my best to help because I cannot stand by and watch a student suffer. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get going. Legolas is in trouble and we’ve got no time to lose.”

A sudden stroke of genius struck Kíli that moment. “I’ll go with you then.”

Bilbo nearly tripped over his feet and fell face-first into the fireplace. “You can’t be serious, Kíli! This is way too dangerous for any grown wizard, let alone a teenager still in school. I can’t in all good conscience…”

“If you don’t take me,” Kíli interrupted him quickly, “I’ll tell Professor Thorin that you’re leaving the school without telling them.”

‘I’m doing this for the greater good’, Kíli said to himself with as much conviction as he could muster, for the look of utter betrayal and sadness on Bilbo’s face was hard for anyone to take. He had no other choice, however. How could he let Bilbo go on a suicidal mission alone now that he had known about it? “Come on, professor. We’ve got no time to lose. And I promise,” he added hastily, hoping to convince his Herbology professor, “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. I’ll follow your order strictly.”

This seemed to do the trick. Swallowing hard, Bilbo nodded but Kíli could tell it was with a heavy heart. This gave him no pleasure. Nonetheless, he was not going to let this opportunity pass. So he followed Bilbo quickly into the fireplace heading for the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade.

“How are we going to get to Barad-dûr?” Kíli asked as he scrambled out of the fireplace in the Three Broomsticks. His heart was beating fast with adrenaline, from fear or excitement he knew not. Perhaps both.

“Shush,” Bilbo hissed and looked around anxiously. Luckily, it was too early in the day for the tavern to be fully occupied. “Not so loud. I’m going to take you with Side-Along Apparation.”

The Side-Along Apparation was never an enjoyable experience but Kíli had no time to dwell on the sick feeling in his stomach. He was simply too shocked to do anything. Unlike the open space outside Barad-dûr that he was expecting, Kíli found himself inside a dark and menacing-looking tunnel. There was no light but Bilbo’s  _ Lumos _ managed to provide some source of illumination. Even without the dark stains splattered on the damp walls that were very likely old blood and what looked like human bones scattered on the floor, the magic told Kíli plainly that they were inside Barad-dûr, just like that.

“How did we…” Kíli simply could not grasp the fact that a feat that had proved impossible for wizards like Gandalf and Thorin could be so easily achieved by Bilbo.

Bilbo, however, had no time to answer him. Instead, he raised an arm to silence Kíli while he strained to hear. Kíli fell silent too, which was wise for he too heard the faint murmuring from God knows where. Before he could comment on it though, a strong wave of magic hit him so hard that it almost knocked him off his balance. It was similar to the magic that he felt the night he was half-conscious and half-dreaming, the same darkness, the same heavyweight compressing on him, choking him.

“Someone,” Kíli gasped, trying to speak despite the knot in his throat, “is doing really dark magic.”

Bilbo whipped around. “What do you mean? How can you tell?”

“I can Sense it,” Kíli said with great difficulty. “It’s close and it’s very dark.”

Taking a deep breath, Bilbo gripped his wand harder. Kíli thought he spotted a glint of gold on Bilbo’s hand. Since when did Bilbo start wearing jewellery?

“Right,” said Bilbo. Kíli thought he could detect a tremor in his voice, “Can you lead me to that place?”

The request itself was not hard, except that Kíli feared that the closer he got to the source of the magic, the stronger it would be so he might end up like he did last time. Nevertheless, there was no time to lose so he nodded and started walking towards the source, letting his magic guide him.

It was, without any doubt, the most difficult walk in his life. The corridors inside the tower were barely wide enough for the two of them and Kíli was sure that an Elf or Man would have to crouch down. There was no light in the tunnel so Bilbo had to lit his wand because Kíli was too drained to do it. Given the location of the corridors, he did not expect the temperature inside to be this hot, or perhaps it was simply his Sense warning him of danger. Even without the worried look on Bilbo’s face, Kíli could tell that he was handling it badly. He could feel large drops of sweat dripping down the side of his cheeks, which felt as if they were on fire. Yet he gritted his teeth and walked on. Just one more step, Kíli told himself with all the willpower he had left. One more step and they would come to the place where Legolas was held.

Finally, they arrived at a heavy door made of fine steel, so different from the rustic look of the rest of the corridors that Kíli knew instinctively, even without the help of his Sense, that this was the key place inside this mountain. Next to him, Bilbo gasped. Looking up, Kíli saw them too. Rows of skulls lined the wall and the ceiling. Kíli shivered. There was no doubt what sort of place this was.

“How are we going to get in?” Kíli rasped. He had to hold on to Bilbo to remain standing.

Bilbo raised his wand and pointed it at the door. “I will open the door. You stay here! You’ve done enough today, Kíli, helping me find this place so quickly. Now you must take cover and stay out of the fight.”

“But…”

“You promised me!” Bilbo grabbed Kíli’s arm almost painfully, his face uncharacteristically stern. “I only agreed to take you here because you promised to obey me. Now I ask you to stay here and out of the fight. Do you understand me?”

Recognising defeat, Kíli nodded. As much as he wanted to fight, he knew that he would be more of a burden than an asset in his current state. He did not, however, plan to stay completely out of it. If he could stay hidden, he might be able to stage a sneak attack on the enemy.

After a deep breath, Bilbo waved his wand and the door was blasted open. Kíli staggered several steps back, not by what was inside the room, but by Bilbo’s magic. It was, if not more so, just as strong as the magic coming from the room. What truly shocked him, however, was that it was just as dark.

“Bolg?” Bilbo’s astonished voice drew Kíli back to reality. Scrambling towards the door, Kíli peeked into the room, only to see that Bilbo was right. In the middle of the room stood Bolg, his wand raised and his ugly face distorted. In front of him lay a bound and gagged Legolas. The stone plank underneath looked like some kind of altar, or, Kíli’s heart sank, a sacrifice table. Above Legolas’s prostrate form, a vague shape of dark and sinister mist was slowly congregating.

“Don’t step any closer!” Bolg yelled and angry sparks flew from his wand. Bilbo raised both his hands in a sign of peace.

“It’s okay, Bolg,” said Bilbo in a would-be calm voice. “I won’t come closer. Why don’t you put your wand down?”

Bolg laughed. It was a high-pitched unnatural laugh that chilled Kíli to the bones. “Don’t patronise me, Professor. You know better than that. I’m already here. There’s no turning back.” His other hand convulsed and his grip tightened on Legolas’s hair, who was mercifully unconscious.

“There’s always a way back, Bolg,” Bilbo said sadly. “You don’t have to go through with this.”

“But I have to!” Bolg cried, his face wild and Kíli felt more dark magic pouring out of him. “This is the only way to bring him back. Once the Dark Lord is back, he’ll take over Azkaban and my father will be free!”

“So you’re sacrificing Legolas.” Bilbo’s voice was soft yet tinged with disbelief.

“This is the only way to bring him back. The only thing he needs is a body. His soul is still out there, too weak to carry on.”

“But why Legolas? I thought you are friends.”

Bolg laughed again. “Friends? I only befriended him again so I could get close to him. He’s nothing but an arrogant jumped up little shit living under daddy’s shadow. But he thinks so highly of him that he treated me like a servant back in our first year. Even that was not good enough for him so he ditched me like a used rag later. What kind of friend is that? But his blood is the purest so the body that I create out of him will be the strongest, befitting that of a Dark Lord.”

Both Kíli and Bilbo stared. Was it possible that Bolg could have accomplished all this? “But how?” Bilbo asked in bewilderment. “How did you get Legolas out of Hogwarts and how do you learn about the spell to complete the ritual?”

The look on Bolg’s face was, Kíli had to double-check to make sure, one of pure pride and eagerness to please. “I’ve done my homework. I started the whole preparation last summer. It wasn’t easy but I managed it. The old tomes in Moria Library were most helpful but not enough.”

“So that’s why you asked me to assign you that project and give you access to the Restricted Section.” Bilbo sounded disappointed. “I thought you were genuinely interested in Herbology.”

Once again, Kíli was shocked by the somewhat abashed look on Bolg’s face. “I did enjoy it but I had to get those books on the Restricted Section to complete the ritual. When you refused to give me access, I sneaked in during Christmas. It was so risky because Kíli Durin almost found out about it. He has this strange map that shows where everyone is inside the castle. I had it stolen for me. Afterwards, things become much easier. I can go anywhere in the castle without being detected. That’s when I finally find all the spells to complete the ritual.”

“But they must be very advanced magic. How do you manage to master them? What if you fail? It could have serious repercussions for you. It’s not too late to turn back now, Bolg,” Bilbo pleaded earnestly.

Bolg shook his head smugly. “My magic did suffer at the beginning. There were times when I feared I would be a Squib forever. But I have conquered that and succeeded already. I have managed to summon my House Elf’s soul back after I sacrificed the soul of a Hogwarts House Elf using the same ritual. If I can summon a soul consumed by Dementors, surely I can create a body for the Dark Lord by sacrificing the body of Legolas.”

Bilbo sighed, his face sad. “Oh Bolg, what have you done? You know I can’t let you go on with this, Bolg. I have to stop you.”

To be frank, Kíli was bewildered why Bilbo was wasting his time and breaths with Bolg. Was he hoping to wait for reinforcement from Gandalf and the other professors? He would have attacked Bolg to save them a whole lot of trouble. To his surprise, Bolg actually looked torn.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” said Bolg in a low voice. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I’ve got to complete this.”

“Then I’m afraid that left me with no choice.” The moment his words were out, Bilbo raised his wand and shot a stunning spell so quickly that Bolg ducked just in time. The wall behind him, however, was less lucky. When the spell hit it with a loud bang, it burnt a large hole on the wall the size of a dragon egg. Once again, Kíli was surprised by the sheer power of Bilbo’s spell. Since when did his Professor become so powerful?

Bolg, however, was not backing down. Once he had emerged from the sacrifice table, the black mist now behind him, he shot an equally powerful spell back. Its purple flame soon transformed into a thousand sharp needles all aimed at Bilbo. Kíli gasped but Bilbo managed to block it by summoning a nearby rock in front of him. The rock exploded into tiny pieces but Bilbo’s Shield Charm protected himself from harm. 

Howling with frustration, Bolg waved his wand again. This time, a fire dragon erupted out of his wand tip and charged towards Bilbo. Clearly, Bolg had no moral qualms about causing his Herbology Professor any harm. Kíli, however, could not just stand by and watch. Picking himself up laboriously, he had to hold on to the doorframe to steady himself. Once he was standing upright, Kíli took out his wand and fired a Stunning Spell at Bolg, which only missed because Bolg stepped out of the way at the last second.

“Who is it?” Bolg looked around wildly, his eyes now a slit of fire. When his gaze landed on Kíli, he snared.

“No!” Bilbo’s frantic cry was no stop to Bolg’s spell soaring through the air towards Kíli. Even though he had no idea what the spell was, Kíli knew that the angry black flame was no picnic. It was too fast for him to get out of the way, especially in his current state. Was this really the end?

Then it happened, as if in slow motion. The magic that erupted out of Bilbo was not directed towards Bolg. Rather it was like a wave that demolished anything in its path. Kíli saw Bolg succumb to it first, the dark mist around him dissipating fast. Then it was his turn and he welcomed it with open arms.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The headache that he felt was overwhelming. Opening his eyes with great effort, Kíli closed it almost immediately because the light was blinding. When he opened them again seconds later, he could now discern his surroundings better.

Two giant and curved pillars made out of the hardest steel stood in front of him, arching into the stormy sky, looking menacing for the top parts were devastatingly sharp. There was nothing between or on top of the pillars, which made Kíli wonder the point of them. Standing shakily to his feet, he realised that they were at the top of some kind of tower that rose thousands of feet above the ground. Below lay the mountains surrounding Mordor. Kíli took a tentative step towards the pillars and almost regretted it. The floor between them was missing. Kíli peeked down and was surprised to see a stone table directly below it. Where was this place?

“Kíli?” Bilbo’s voice startled Kíli so much that he nearly fell to his death several hundred feet below to the stone table, had he not grabbed one of the pillars at the last minute.

“Professor Bilbo?” Kíli’s surprises did not end when he spotted Bolg and Legolas lying unconscious next to where Bilbo was standing. “What’s going on? Where are we?”

The look on Bilbo’s face changed. “So you don’t remember either.”

Now Kíli was seriously panicking. “Remember what?”

Bilbo sighed. “That’s the problem. I don’t remember anything after we left Hogsmeade.”

Kíli stared. Now that Bilbo had mentioned it, the memory of them at Hogsmeade had resurfaced. Just like Bilbo, however, the rest remained blank until the very moment he woke up. “I can’t either. So where are we now?”

“I can be pretty certain that we’re at the top of Barad-dûr,” said Bilbo as he looked around to take in the surroundings. “It is where we were heading, isn’t it? And unless I’m very much mistaken, this,” he pointed upward to the empty space between the two pillars, “is where the Eye of Sauron used to be.”

This was almost too much information to take in. Taking a hasty step back, Kíli stared at the pillar in horror. Was this really where the evilest of evil used to be? “But how did we get here?”

Bilbo, however, was not listening. Kneeling next to Legolas, he waved his wand in a complicated pattern before letting out a sigh of relief. He did the same with Bolg and was equally satisfied.

“They’re both alive and alright,” pronounced Bilbo, “just knocked out. I wonder what did that.”

No matter how much Kíli did not care for either of them, he was relieved to hear that. He was, however, puzzled by Bolg’s appearance. “What’s he doing here?”

Bilbo, it seemed, was equally unequipped to answer the question. “Maybe he was kidnapped along with Legolas? They do share a dormitory after all.”

Was this all there was to it, Bolg being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Somehow Kíli’s instinct was telling him that there was something missing. Bolg’s presence was no coincidence but something more sinister. Yet what could it be? Surely Bolg was incapable of single-handedly kidnapping Legolas out of Hogwarts and smuggling him into Mordor when wizards like Gandalf and Thorin fail? There were, however, more important questions at hand. “How are we going to get out of here?”

To Kíli’s surprise, Bilbo did not look overly worried. “I’m sure we can just Apparate back to Hogsmeade.” When he saw the nonplussed look on Kíli’s face, he explained quickly, “I believe the spells in Barad-dûr are to prevent people from gaining entrance into this place, not to leave it. In any case, we should try.” With one hand extended to Kíli, Bilbo waved his wand so both Legolas and Bolg’s unconscious bodies stood upright. “Come on, you can grab Legolas and I’ll take Bolg.”

When Kíli took hold of Bilbo’s hand, he felt the ring on Bilbo’s hand burn so briefly that he wondered if he had imagined it. Real or not, the golden ring, very possibly with some magic imbued in it, was indeed on Bilbo’s finger. Before Kíli could ask, however, he felt the squeezing darkness of Side-Along Apparation. When it disappeared seconds later, they were back in the familiar surroundings of Hogsmeade.

“We made it!” Kíli yelled with gratitude. He had for one moment feared that they would be stranded in the ghastly tower forever. “You’re unbelievable, professor!”

Bilbo smiled, “Thank you, Kíli. Now…” He set Bolg down gently on the ground, taking care not to bump the Slytherin’s head, and raised his wand. “Expecto Patronum.”

A silvery pug erupted out of his wand and wandered happily away. Kíli had to suppress a snigger at the scene. “Er, who did you send the message to?”

The answer was saved when mere seconds later, Dwalin’s proud tiger came back and spoke, in Dwalin’s characteristic voice. “Yeh’ve got to be joking, Bilbo Baggins! How in the name of Mahal did you manage that?”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. Luckily, he did not have to respond to this, for another silvery animal flew towards them. The handsome eagle spoke in Gandalf’s voice. “We’re heading back to the castle. Take Legolas and Bolg to the Hospital Wing and meet us there.”

“Right,” Bilbo let out a sigh of relief. “Here, let me take Legolas.” With a wave of his wand, Bilbo levitated both Legolas and Bolg, who were still unconscious, and started walking towards the castle.

“Will they be alright?” Kíli did not care much for Bolg but he did hope that no serious harm would come to Legolas, who looked paler than usual, his long silvery blond hair falling lifelessly almost to the ground. It seemed that the ethereal aura that so usually surrounded the Elves had disappeared.

The worried look on Bilbo’s face did little to alleviate his concern. “I hope so. The problem is, neither of us can even remember what happened. I thought they would wake up like you did but it looks like something more sinister has happened to them, probably before we could get to them. But don’t worry,” he added quickly at the horrified look on Kíli’s face, “Mister Oín will know what to do. He always does.”

Mister Oín, as it turned out, was at his wit’s end where Bolg was concerned. “This is highly curious!” He said loudly as he bustled around Bolg and Legolas’s beds, his wand waving intricate patterns nonstop. “This lad should be fine.” He directed his wand towards Legolas and seconds later, Legolas had regained some colours in his face while his eyeballs moved under his eyelids. “Suffered some nasty dark spells but at least I can identify the cause. This one,” he cocked his head towards Bolg, “I’m completely lost. Something very peculiar has happened to him. Haven’t the foggiest what though.”

Even Kíli was feeling a bit sorry for Bolg. Whatever had happened, it seemed that he had taken the hit more than Legolas. Did they torture Bolg perhaps while they left Legolas mostly alone so he could be sacrificed?

Kíli stood up straight as if he had just had a bucket of ice water dumped on him. Sacrificed? What did that come from? The idea, though coming out of nowhere, felt like it made complete sense. Did he just recall something that he had witnessed? Was that what had happened? Legolas was kidnapped because he was to be sacrificed? For what though? And why was Bolg kidnapped too? Collateral damage? Somehow this did not sound right to him.

So lost in his thoughts that he nearly missed Fíli, his face red with rage, storming into the Hospital Wing, which left him temporarily stunned. He had never seen Fíli so angry before.

“Kíli Durin!” Fíli’s voice was so shrill that Kíli jumped. In fact, he had to take a step back because Fíli looked like he was about to punch him in the face. “How dare you take off like that to Barad-dûr, without telling me?! Do you have any idea how worried sick I’ve been? I thought you were kidnapped too! 6 Bloody hours you’ve been gone! You could have died! How can you…” His voice broke.

Kíli felt his face heat up. In the midst of all the excitement of the adventure of rescuing Legolas, he had completely forgotten about Fíli. “I’m sorry. I just, well, forgot.”

“Oh, did you?” Fíli’s voice got even higher. “How convenient! I reckon it’s just one big fun adventure for you, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean…”

“I was about to go to Barad-dûr myself!” Fíli cried and Kíli was startled to see tears in his beautiful blue eyes. “I don’t care if I’d die there, dark curses be damned. All I know is that I can’t stand not knowing if you are alright! Have you even considered how I might have felt? How your actions might affect others? You, you just…” Clearly overwhelmed with emotions, he stamped his feet and stormed out of the room, leaving Kíli behind utterly flabbergasted and ashamed.

“Laddie’s telling the truth,” Oín’s voice was surprisingly calm and drama-free. The disapproval in his tone, however, was hard to miss, even to Kíli. “Lady Galadriel had to stun him because he was so adamant on going to Barad-dûr to get himself killed. I had to sedate him after I revived him because he just couldn’t stay put.”

His face flaming red, Kíli hung his head in shame. “I’m so sorry. It slipped my mind completely. I was just…” He did not know how to continue, for what he had done was inexcusable. How could he put Fíli through an ordeal like this?

“It’s partially my fault too,” Bilbo said at once, causing Kíli to whip his head to look at him. “I was the one who insisted that we set out immediately when Kíli came to see me. I should have known better.”

Bilbo’s helping hand made Kíli even more ashamed of himself because he could not help but remember that it was he who blackmailed his kind professor to take him. Now not only was Bilbo not telling Oín what Kíli had done, but he was helping Kíli. How could he ever repay his Herbology professor’s kindness?

“What should you have known better?” Thorin’s angry voice made all of them look around. “Oh, let me guess. Perhaps you shouldn’t have gone off to Barad-dûr by yourself, not to mention with a student!” The anger flashed in his blue eyes was so similar to Fíli’s that Kíli felt another pang in his heart. “Now I don’t care what sort of idiotic way you have come up to kill yourself but you are NOT going to put a student’s life in danger!”

Unable to stand it any longer, Kíli opened his mouth but Bilbo beat him to it. “You’re right, Thorin. It’s my fault. I wasn’t thinking. I failed Kíli as his professor.”

“But…” Kíli’s protest was interrupted by Gandalf. “Now, what has been done has been done. I’m sure Professor Bilbo does it with the students’ interest at heart. Not to forget that we do have Professor Bilbo to thank for the safe return of our missing students, which, if you ask me, is truly extraordinary.”

Next to him, Thranduil made an impatient noise. Gandalf coughed, “Ah, right. Mister Oín,” he turned to the school Healer, “how are our students?”

Oín looked troubled. “Legolas will be fine but I’m not sure about Bolg. He is still unconscious and I cannot work out why. I think…” His words were interrupted by Thranduil, who seemed to be fed up with it all. “Now why is my son still unconscious?”

“Mister Thranduil,” Oín said pointedly, “if you will allow me to finish. I believe Bolg has suffered the damage of some seriously dark magic because Legolas has been subjected to some nasty dark spells, albeit of a lesser degree and more commonly known. Hence I know how to diagnose and treat him. The cause of Bolg’s injury is unknown to me but perhaps you,” he gestured towards the professors, “can help here.”

“But why is my son suffering damage from dark spells? Who kidnapped him? How was he found? Why is Bolg with him? What in the name of Merlin is going on here?” Kíli had never seen Thranduil so agitated before but for once he could hardly blame the proud Elf. Seeing one’s own child lying unconscious in the bed like that was enough to cause any parent anguish and Thranduil, whatever his other faults, seemed to truly care for his son.

“That,” said Gandalf calmly, “is what we hope they,” he turned towards Bilbo and Kíli, “could enlighten us.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Kíli, more surprising and disturbing than the attack on Legolas and Bolg was the revelation Ori brought him.

With all eyes on them, Kíli could not help but feel more than a bit nervous. What could he tell them when he could hardly recall what had happened? Fortunately, Bilbo took the onerous task off Kíli’s shoulders. “Unfortunately, we can’t remember what happened exactly. All we can recall at this moment is that we tried to get into Barad-dûr from Hogsmeade and that we woke up at the top of Barad-dûr, right under the Eye of Sauron, or where it used to be, with Legolas and Bolg next to us but both unconscious.”

Thorin was the first one to explode. “You don’t remember? You can’t be serious, can you? How could you not remember?”

For once, Thranduil seemed to share the same opinion as Thorin. “I too find it highly improbable, almost to the extent of ludicrous, that you should fail to remember an experience so critical and possibly life-threatening as this. I know Hobbits are not known for their intelligence but this is stretching it too far.”

“We didn’t want to forget!” Kíli piped up angrily. He did not care for the way Thranduil addressed Bilbo at all. “Obviously it was some kind of spell that did it, probably really dark ones. I wish I knew what had happened!”

“Kíli,” Dwalin sat down next to Kíli’s bed so he could look Kíli straight in the eye before saying reasonably, “look at it from our perspective. Yeh two had left the castle without informing anyone and somehow managed to bring both of them back while we couldn’t even get into the tower? And now yeh are telling us that yeh don’t know how yeh did it. Yeh can’t blame us for not believing it.”

“But we really don’t remember, I swear!” Kíli felt trapped. How could they not believe them? What was worse, he had no way of proving it. “Honestly, why would we lie about something like this?”

Before anyone could speak, Gandalf cleared his throat and everyone fell silent. “Thank you. Now, please rest assured that we are not by any means accusing you,” he nodded at Bilbo and Kíli, “of lying or concealing information. We’re merely expressing our incredulity at the turn of the events. One thing that I do find curious though,” he locked eyes with Bilbo, “is how you originally planned to get into Barad-dûr.”

Bilbo fidgeted. “I, well, I, er, I thought I’d just try Apparating. If that doesn't work, then we’d Apparate to Mordor and see if we can somehow find a way inside.”

If Kíli found this highly unbelievable, he could hardly blame others for feeling the same way. While Gandalf adopted a politely incredulous look, Dwalin was less subtle, for he stared open-mouthed at Bilbo as if he had just sprouted a unicorn horn before starting to dance the conga. Thorin and Thranduil, on the other hand, snorted at precisely the same time.

“I see,” Gandalf said slowly, his eyes still fixed on Bilbo. His face pink, Bilbo put his hands behind his back and puffed up his chest, as if daring them to question him. Kíli, however, noticed something else. The ring that was on Bilbo’s right hand was no longer there. All his fingers were bare. Did he somehow lose it or, and Kíli had a nagging suspicion that the latter was more likely, did he hide it from view so nobody could see it?

“So you were just trying your luck?” Thorin sounded almost sarcastic. “And it worked. Why didn’t I think of it before?”

Bilbo blushed even harder. “I’ve told you. I can’t remember what happened afterwards. Maybe we got into Mordor and found a secret passageway or something, possibly,” he shot Thorin a look that could only be described as cunning, “with Kíli’s help.”

The perfectly shaped eyebrow of Thranduil rose delicately but Thorin understood the meaning immediately. Kíli wondered if that was how they got inside while the others failed. As much as it pleased him to think that he had achieved something that the most powerful wizards could not, he felt that it did not make sense. Sure, his Sense might help them locate the place. Yet it had never demonstrated any other special abilities that went beyond feeling the magic. Besides, he had a strong suspicion that the key to their success lay in that special little ring of Bilbo’s. Nevertheless, Bilbo seemed to had no wish to divulge his secret. Given what he had done for Kíli, Kíli thought it only fair that he kept Bilbo’s secret.

After Bilbo’s not so subtle hint at Kíli’s Sense, both Thorin and Dwalin dropped the matter, much to Kíli’s surprise. He had somehow mixed feelings about their protective attitude. On one hand, he did appreciate the gesture, because he had been involved in enough trouble as it is. The other part of him, particularly in Thranduil’s presence, wanted the whole world to know that he, Kíli, a Half-Blood orphan who grew up in a Muggle orphanage, possessed a power so special that most Pureblood would kill for it. It was hard not to rub it in the proud Pureblood’s face. In the end, the frown on Thorin’s face won. He would be rational once and not cause any more trouble. Thorin would never forgive him if he did.

“So my son has been kidnapped for reasons that nobody knows. He has suffered greatly yet I can’t even bring him justice because nobody in the name of Merlin knows what is going on?” Thranduil, on the other hand, was not easy to give up. “No matter what you say, I can’t accept it. I demand justice for my son.”

“That’s rich of you,” said Thorin snidely. “You were the one who turned your back on us when we were fighting for our lives against the Dark side last time. Now you’re angry that they took your son?”

Thranduil’s pale face turned so red that Kíli thought he might have a heart attack any time soon. “Don’t you dare patronise me, Thorin Oakenshield! I did what was best for my people! Besides, we don’t even know why my son was taken. He could have been kidnapped for ransom. Some of my business rivals might think it a good idea to use my son as a bargaining chip in our business negotiations. Some of my enemies,” he gave Thorin a not so subtle look, “might just abduct my son to make me suffer.”

“They were trying to sacrifice him!” Kíli burst out, unable to stand the tension any longer. “He was to be sacrificed so that, so that,” he paused but the answer came to him naturally, “so that the Dark Lord can return. They chose him because his blood is the purest.”

Everybody stared at him in absolute astonishment, including Bilbo. In the end, it was Gandalf who broke the silence. “I thought you didn’t remember anything, Kíli.”

Kíli fidgeted. “I didn’t. Well, I remembered nothing when I first woke up. Later, some ideas just popped into my mind and I think,” he hesitated, “I think they’re true.”

Dwalin and Thorin exchanged a quick look while Thranduil exploded. “You’ve been withholding this information from us when we asked you! What was your intent? What do you want?”

Kíli stuttered. “I, I, I didn’t. It just came to me, I swear.”

Taking several assured steps towards Kíli, Lady Galadriel put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Kíli closed his eyes and took a deep breath to take in her scent, so warm and welcoming. “Nobody was blaming you, Kíli. We understand how certain kinds of magic may interfere with your memory. Just tell us what you can recall.”

“I…” Kíli looked hesitantly from one to the other. “There isn’t much.” He closed his eyes and tried to remember. “I think Legolas was lying on the stone table directly below the Eye of Sauron. He was unconscious.” Nothing else came to mind, no matter how much he tried so he eventually gave up. “Nothing else. I’ve tried so hard but I can’t remember anything. I know someone was standing behind him but I can’t remember who that was. I reckon it was the kidnapper though.”

“Do you remember seeing Bolg in there?” asked Lady Galadriel gently.

Now that he came to think of it, he could not place Bolg anywhere in his memory. “No, not really. But if he was collateral damage, maybe they just stuffed him to the corner?”

“Hmm,” Gandalf said thoughtfully, “maybe. In any case, you have done extremely well, providing us with information we couldn’t have gathered otherwise. Please just keep trying if you can. More might come through later, sometimes when you least expect it. The same,” he nodded at Bilbo, “goes for you, professor.”

Bilbo nodded. “Of course.”

Despite Lady Galadriel and Gandalf’s reassurance, Kíli could still feel Thranduil’s not so friendly eyes on him. When their eyes locked, Thranduil opened his mouth but was cut off by Thorin.

“So there you have it,” Thorin said with both anger and solemness in his voice. “The Dark side is indeed responsible for your son’s abduction. Your pure blood will not protect you from them, no matter what they tell you. They will stop at nothing to gain power. And when they do, they will rule the world and crush it! Nothing will stand in their way unless we all work together! This is not about your people or my people! This is about everything that we hold dear, everything worth fighting for. Maybe it’s time you wake up to reality and make up your mind, Thranduil. Don’t let your son suffer in vain. Moreover, don’t let more harm come to him because of your inaction.”

Kíli watched in amazement at Thorin’s emphatic speech. He now understood why he was the most trusted leader of the Dwarves, leading them fearlessly through trials and turbulence. If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture Thorin, in his younger years but no less fierce, waving his wand and charging towards the enemies, his comrades by his side. He wished that he was born earlier so he could have witnessed that.

Clearly, he was not the only one affected. Thranduil’s face, ever so stoic, looked pensive rather than offended. When his eyes swept through his son’s unconscious form, however, he seemed to have made a decision. “I have to admit that I am aghast to find that the Dark side would retort to such treacherous means to subject my son, a completely innocent Elfling, to such sufferings for so nefarious an end. I must, therefore, rescind my agreement of neutrality.”

“Yer son is not the only innocent they have hurt nor will he be the last,” Dwalin said coolly. “I am, however, glad that yeh’ve decided to switch sides.”

Gandalf and Lady Galadriel, on the other hand, were a lot more enthusiastic about Thranduil’s change of heart.

“I am so relieved to hear that, Lord Thranduil.” Gandalf clapped his hands together with such excitement that Kíli saw Dwalin raise his eyebrows. “This is indeed the most sensible choice, I assure you. With you on our side, we can achieve so much more!”

“I’m doing it for my son.” Thranduil did not seem to share the same sentiment. “Just because I’ve joined you does not mean that I share the same ideas and beliefs as you.”

“Sometimes it’s not always about ideas and beliefs.” Lady Galadriel’s smile was serene as ever. “It’s about what matters the most, what is the right thing to do. We are all working towards a common goal and that is all that matters.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Upon Oín’s insistence, Kíli was kept in the Hospital Wing for one more day just to confirm that whatever spell that had removed his memory had done him no other lasting damage. As it was a nice summer day outside, Kíli found it incredibly hard to remain in the Hospital Wing, especially since Fíli was still nowhere to be seen. It was hard not to worry because Fíli had never been that angry with him before. Sure, they had had their ups and downs. Fíli’s previous attitude towards him, no matter how angry he was, had always been controlled and almost silent. To see Fíli lose his temper like this had been truly unnerving.

“Kíli!” Ori’s excited voice made Kíli look up and smile. “Thank Mahal you’re alright! We’ve been so worried!”

Once again reminded of his own folly, Kíli felt his face heat up. “Sorry about that. I should have told you.”

Ori smiled. “It’s alright. I understand what it must be like, everyone running around, all the chaos and confusion. The whole school had been aroused and we were all upset about it. It must be even crazier for you, heavily involved in it and all.”

Despite the immense guilt he felt, Kíli could not help but return the smile. This was so typical Ori, always optimistic, always understanding. “Thanks a bunch, mate. I wish Fíli could think more like you.”

“Ah,” Ori sighed. “I see. Well, I can’t say I blame him. You didn’t see the state he was in. I swore that he was ready to charge into Mordor by himself. You are his best friend and he’d do anything for you, anything to shield you from harm.”

“I know,” Kíli said despondently. “You have no idea how rubbish I feel and how sorry I am. If I can, I will go back and change the past but I can’t. I just wish there’s something I can do to make it up to him. Make him forgive me.”

“Give it time. He will come around. You know Fíli. He’ll never be able to stay angry at you for long.”

Hoping with all his heart that this was true, Kíli smiled at Ori. It was then he remembered something that Ori said to him before he left for the rescue mission. “What were you trying to tell me before I left the castle? About something you’ve read in a book?”

Ori’s face lit up immediately, as it usually did when anything book or theory was involved. “Yes, indeed! I almost forgot, with everything else that's been going on! Anyway, remember that you asked me to research into shared dreams?”

This was so far from what Kíli had expected that he gaped like a fish. “What?”

“The dream sharing!” Ori said impatiently. “I’ve looked into that the moment you asked but can’t find anything until,” he paused, possibly for dramatic effect, “I gained access to the Restricted Section from my Herbology project. I stumbled upon it really, checked out the book for a bit of light reading. Such a fascinating book on a wide range of topics, from advanced potion-making to magical theories to...”

“Get to the point, Ori,” Kíli said through gritted teeth.

“Right,” Ori said with an apologetic smile. “What I’ve found is that dream-sharing only happens between Ones. It happens because your souls are connected.”

If Ori’s original question had caught him by surprise, it was nothing compared to the bombshell this had dropped on him. How could this be? This was impossible! Thorin, his One? What about Fíli? Surely not! “That’s not possible. No, no, no, no, no!”

Ori looked both astonished and slightly affronted by Kíli’s reaction. “I assure you that my research is thorough and my conclusion is sound. There are many documented cases of such phenomena in that book, which was written by the most respected expert in magic related to the soul. You can be sure that those cases are genuine and well-researched.”

Throwing caution to the wind, Kíli sat up and cried wildly, “So what? They could have made a mistake. They could have missed something.” Suddenly an idea struck him. “What if there are cases of dream-sharing between people who are not Ones? They can’t have tracked every single case. How can they rule that possibility out?”

“It wasn’t just empirical evidence either. The author has explained the magical theory behind it too. It makes perfect sense.” Though clearly disturbed by Kíli’s reaction, Ori managed to contain his astonishment to his eyes only and explained patiently. “It is true, Kíli. I’m sorry if it’s not what you think but you can’t argue with the theory.”

The feeling inside him was so hard to describe that Kíli was rendered utterly speechless. It felt as if his world was tumbling around him. Everything that he believed in no longer held any truth. What was he to do?

“Hey,” Ori said softly. “Are you okay?”

“I…” Kíli did not know how to respond. A thought, however, suddenly struck him. “What if the dream-sharing has decreased in frequency and intensity? Is this possible? Surely that’s a sign that something went wrong.”

Ori contemplated the matter. “It is indeed strange. I don’t think I’ve ever read about an instance like that. I will have to do more research but from the cases I’ve read, the instances usually increase not decrease.”

Kíli perked up immediately! This was hope yet. He had not shared a dream with Thorin for half a year. In fact, the dream-sharing had become so less frequent that he had almost forgotten about it. Surely the universe had realised that it had made a mistake in assigning Thorin as his One. Maybe it had discovered, just as he had, that Fíli instead was the One for him.

The look on his face must have betrayed his feelings because Ori said, “I won’t get your hopes up too high. There has never been a mistake in any Dwarf’s One. I can tell by your reaction,” he hesitated and looked around to check that Oín was nowhere in sight, “that the person you’re sharing a dream with is not Fi, I mean, not someone that you wish. But you must learn to accept it. Before a Dwarf finds their One, they often fall for the wrong person. It’s all part of discovering who you are and what you want so you are ready for your One. This must be the case.”

Perfect, thought Kíli wearily, the whole world knows how I feel about Fíli except Fíli himself. If Ori had meant Tauriel, Kíli would have agreed with him. As much as his feelings for Tauriel were sincere and passionate, he eventually learnt that Tauriel was not right for him. They were both too headstrong and too impulsive to make it work. Fíli, however, was completely different. Confronted with the possibility that Fíli might not be his One, Kíli realised now more than ever that he could never not love his best friend, fate be damned. Looking Ori straight in the eye, Kíli said slowly, “Do you honestly think that Fíli is wrong for me?”

For once, there was no optimism on Ori’s face. “I don’t know Kíli. If you asked me this question an hour ago, I’d have told you that you’ve lost your marbles. You two look perfect for each other. But the magic is never wrong. I just don’t want you wasting your life and your heart on something impossible. Maybe you do love each other but can’t be together. Maybe that’s why he can’t be your One! Fíli is Thorin’s only heir. If he’s with you, how can he produce an heir? Fate must be truly generous to you to give you your true One so you will not live in misery!”

This possibility struck Kíli even more than Ori’s previous revelation. So absorbed in his hopeless yearning (and the chaos surrounding the O.W.L. exams), Kíli had completely forgotten about Fíli’s political situation. Was this really it? Was all hope lost irrevocably?

“Kíli,” Ori said tentatively, “I know you don’t like this and you won’t tell me, which is perfectly fine, but do you genuinely dislike your One that much?”

“He’s not my One,” Kíli said automatically.

Ori sighed, “You know what I mean. Can you please just try to imagine what it will be like to be with him if you’ve never met Fíli?”

This notion was, of course, absurd. Yet Kíli did not have the heart to refuse Ori when he looked at him like that. “Fine,” he said reluctantly, “I’ve never thought about it but…” So how did he feel about Thorin being his One?

His first overwhelming reaction was disbelief. How could anyone think that the proud aristocratic Thorin could be his One, the love of his life, his perfect companion, body and soul? Had they forgotten how Thorin could hardly stand the sight of him, his unkind words towards him when he was but a first-year, fresh and new into an unfamiliar and frightening world? Surely this was a colossal joke.

_ But he has changed, hasn’t he? _

A small voice that sounded very much like Fíli’s, the irony of which was not lost on Kíli, whispered in his head.  _ He has come to see you as your own person, not merely your father’s son. He has come to care for you. He has taught you valuable lessons and defended you in front of others. Have you forgotten that? _

Unfortunately, there was too much truth in it to be denied. As Kíli cast his mind into his more recent memories, he had to agree with his inner-Fíli-voice. True, Thorin did still get angry with him every now and then, but usually with a reason, be it good or not. He did slowly come to care for him, if not as a lover but at least as part of his family. The memory of Thorin defending him against Thranduil was also fresh in his mind that Kíli felt unfair to disregard it in his consideration.

“I…” He opened his mouth and closed it. “I don’t know. He used to hate me but not anymore. I don't know. Maybe.”

“But how do you feel about him?” Ori pressed gently, not even batting an eyelid at the mention of the word ‘he’. “Do you like him as a person? Do you have any shared interest? Do you think you can have a good time with him? Do you think he can make you happy?”

What wonderful questions! Kíli had to rack his brain and search his soul. Did he like Thorin? He was certainly handsome enough, albeit in a sort of dark and brooding way, which frankly Kíli did not mind. On the contrary, when he pictured Thorin’s sharp features, he could feel his face heat up. He was so different from Fíli, one like the light and the other darkness, yet equally captivating. “I reckon he’s not that hard on the eye.”

“Well, I can tell.” Ori had to suppress his smile.

“Oh shush! Seriously, I don’t know if we have much in common though. He’s a Pureblood through and through. He likes Potions, which I’m still pants at. And he’s a much quieter type. I, well, I don’t know if I can have a good time with him or if he can make me happy because I simply haven’t interacted with him that much to know for sure.”

To Kíli’s surprise, Ori looked immensely worried, more so than he had ever seen since the beginning of the conversation. “I see. That’s, er, unfortunate.”

Kíli frowned. “Is it really that hopeless?”

“Oh no, that’s not what I mean,” Ori said quickly. “There’s certainly still hope for you two. What I mean is, well, ah, never mind.”

As much as Kíli would like Ori to clarify on his quizzical statement, the conversation was brought to an abrupt halt by the arrival of Gimli.

“Kíli! Mahal’s sweet pants above! You’re still alive!” Gimli strode across the room and nearly threw himself at Kíli, had Ori not risen just in time to prevent this potential premature death of Kíli.

“Thanks, Gim.” Kíli grinned. “Alive and kicking. No harm done really.”

“Thank Mahal for that,” Gimli said softly. “If anything has happened to you too, I’d never…” his voice trailed off and he cast his eyes down. “How is, er, everyone else?”

Kíli thought he understood what Gimli meant. Despite his brave and devil-may-care facade, Gimli cared deeply about those close to him and had a strong sense of right and wrong. It was thus hardly surprising that he would feel responsible for the entire event. “Professor Bilbo and I are fine. Mister Oín reckoned that Legolas will be fine too. He’s not sure about Bolg though. Said that he’s suffered from the effects of some very dark and obscure magic.”

Gimli grimaced. “It’s all my fault! If only I’d…”

“No!” Kíli interrupted him forcefully. “It’s not your fault! I know what you’re thinking,” he raised his voice at the look on Gimli’s face, “but the truth is, whoever did it is an extremely powerful dark wizard. Even if you were patrolling that night, they’d have taken Legolas and Bolg anyway, probably you too, or worse. He could have killed you! Look at Bolg!”

“You can’t know that!” Gimli cried, having finally lost the last veneer of composure. “I could have bought them some time. I could have alerted the professors quicker. They might put off the abduction when they saw people patrolling the dungeons. There are so many possibilities how it could have turned out better if only I had done my duty.”

Kíli sighed. He knew how Gimli must be feeling. He had been there before. It was, therefore, hard to persuade Gimli to accept the reality that in the grand scheme of things, his presence might have meant very little. Fortunately, Ori was there to save the day with a different tactic.

“Okay, so what if you’re somewhat responsible,” said Ori firmly. “You can’t change that! Whatever has happened has happened. There’s no point dwelling in the past especially since you’ve already learnt your lesson and are repentant. Why don’t you focus your energy on making amends with Legolas and Bolg?”

Gimli looked thoughtful at Ori’s word. Kíli sighed with relief. “Ori’s right, you know? I know you’ve never liked Legolas but…”

“I never really disliked him either,” muttered Gimli. Kíli raised his eyebrows. “Well, could have fooled me, mate.”

“Fine,” Gimli threw up his hand in the air. “I was an arse to him, okay? I promise I’ll be nicer to him from now on.”

Kíli grinned. “That’s the spirit. Legolas really is alright, you know?”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oín checked on Kíli one last time Sunday morning before he declared Kíli fit to leave. Just as he gathered his stuff to leave the Hospital Wing, Kíli heard some noises from the bed on the other side of the room. Looking up curiously, Kíli was astonished to see that Legolas had finally regained consciousness. His blue eyes looked dazed as he scanned the room in confusion as if wondering where he was. Kíli jumped when Legolas’s eyes fell on him.

“What’s going on?” Legolas asked in a croaky voice.

“Lie still,” Kíli said firmly as he rushed to Legolas’s side. Next to him, Bolg’s bed was empty because he had been moved to St. Mungo’s the night before since Oín could not cure him. “You’re in the Hospital Wing. We took you back from Mordor. You’re safe now.”

The confusion on Legolas’s handsome face only increased. “Mordor?”

“Er, yes, Mordor. Barad-dûr?” Kíli tried again.

Legolas merely looked his confusion.

“Right.” Now Kíli was seriously worried. If he had suffered short-term memory loss, surely Legolas had been subjected to the same fate, possibly to a worse degree. “Do you remember who you are?”

Despite his weakened state, Legolas still managed a glare. “Of course I do! I know who you are too, Kíli Durin!”

Kíli held up his two hands. “Okay, okay. Look, I’m just trying to help, mate. I lost some of my memories when I came back so I reckon you’d be the same. What’s the last thing you remember?”

Legolas frowned. “I remember the party. I went to bed pretty late but that was it. The next thing I know, I’m here.”

In a sense, Kíli felt somewhat relieved. At least Legolas did not live through the horrible ordeal. “I see. Well, it may not look it but you’re pretty lucky that you were out the whole time. Anyway, I better find Mister Oín.”

The Hospital Wing was soon filled after Oín had alerted Gandalf of Legolas’s changed conditions. Thranduil, who had not left the castle, was the first to arrive with Gandalf, closely followed by Thorin, Dwalin, and Lady Galadriel. Bilbo was the last to complete the party.

“Father!” Legolas’s eyes were wide as saucers when he saw Thranduil striding across the room towards him. “I don’t…”

“Shhh,” Thranduil put his hand on Legolas’s head softly, “don’t say anything, my son. Let Mister Oín check on you.”

Legolas looked both surprised and elated at his father’s undoubtedly rare open display of affection. Kíli did not linger. It felt like too private a moment to intrude upon. Breakfast was already over so the only way to get food was to go down to the kitchen. Kíli, however, had another idea in mind. Instead, he headed to the Ravenclaw Tower. There was only one person he wanted to see at the moment.

There was, however, one tiny problem here. Unlike the other Common Rooms with a password, Ravenclaw Common Room had no such thing. To get inside, one must answer correctly the riddle of the Eagle door knocker.

“Morning, stranger,” said the door knocker serenely. “You’re early but are you ready?”

“Er,” Kíli reckoned that he had no choice, “sure.”

“Very well.” If the door knocker had a face, Kíli imagined it must be smiling. “Here’s one for you. My life can be measured in hours, I serve by being devoured. Thin, I am quick. Fat, I am slow. Wind is my foe. What am I?”

Kíli blinked. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

“At your service, my young gentle friend,” The door knocker said in the same sing-song voice. “My life can be measured in hours, I serve by being devoured. Thin, I am quick. Fat, I am slow. Wind is my foe. What am I?”

Truth be told, Kíli had no idea. He felt like he had used up most of his brain cells in the O.W.L. exams. The precious few left were undoubtedly annihilated by the dark magic that erased some of his memories. “I’m sorry.”

“Then I am sorry, my gentle friend,” The eagle door knocker sighed. “I am ordered not to let anyone pass without the answer to the riddle.”

Losing all his patience, Kíli cried, “Please, can’t you just let me through, just this once?”

“I’m only a door knocker, my gentle friend. I may be an unusually intelligent one but I can do only what magic has been imparted on me.”

Kíli sighed and sat down against the wall opposite. He was practically starving since the Hospital Wing did not come with room service. Yet he was unwilling to risk missing Fíli. Maybe he should try harder at the riddle. “Fine, can I have another go at the riddle?”

“Certainly. Here it goes. My life can be measured in hours, I serve by being devoured. Thin, I am quick. Fat, I am slow. Wind is my foe. What am I?”

“Okay, so the riddle is about something that fears wind. So that will be, er, sand? Maybe. It’s something that doesn’t last too long either.”

The eagle door knocker looked as impassive as ever but Kíli ploughed on. “Maybe it’s an hourglass? If it’s thin, it holds less sand and is thus quicker!”

“That might be true,” Fíli’s voice made Kíli jump. “But an hourglass has no fear of wind.”

“Fíli!” Kíli cried in delight. Not only was his best friend standing in front of him, but he did not look particularly angry either. Perhaps the situation was not so hopeless after all.

“What else fears wind?” Fíli asked patiently. 

“Er…” Now that Fíli was standing next to him, all Kíli could think of was the colour of his eyes and the sun reflecting from his golden hair. “Fire?”

“Good.” Fíli smiled. “So what uses fire and lives a short life?”

“I dunno.” Kíli shrugged. His eyes roamed randomly in the corridor. Even though the sun was already streaming through the windows, some candles were still lit. “Candles!”

“That, my gentle friend,” said the Eagle door knocker, “is the correct answer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. I've finally done it. I'm not sure how many of you have seen it coming but man was I nervous about this. It's what I intended from the beginning but I've always dreaded actually posting it. Please don't hate me too much lol. I'll go hide in the corner now.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of another year.

“Fíli, I’m so sorry!” That was the first thing that came out when Kíli opened his mouth. Fíli smiled.

“If anyone should apologise, it’s me,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. “I shouldn’t have said those things, especially since you are clearly sorry.”

“But…”

“No, I mean it.” Fíli looked Kíli straight in the eye and Kíli felt his heart stop. “I suppose I’ve just lost my head a bit. You’ve just come back from a great ordeal, which might have subjected you to serious dark magic and the only thing I cared about was a trivial matter. Not to mention that you were about to be questioned by everyone, not all of them kind. I should have stayed with you when you needed me the most.”

Not for the first time, Kíli felt that he simply did not deserve Fíli, whose selflessness, kindness, and consideration for others made him someone truly special. Despite everything that had happened, regardless of the obstacles he knew he would face, how could he let someone like this go? “It’s all my fault, Fíli. I am so sorry that I put you through this! You have every reason to be mad at me.”

Fíli shook his head. “Maybe at the beginning but not for so long. I didn’t even go to visit you yesterday. When Ori came back, he gave me a good talking to. And guess what, he was right. I was being stupid. So I came to look for you this morning. I guess I must have just missed you. Legolas is awake though, thank Mahal.”

“I know.” Kíli could barely contain the relief he felt. “It makes everything worth it. We did manage to rescue him, even though we couldn’t bring him his attacker.”

Fíli frowned. “This is so strange. I kept thinking about it. Things just don’t add up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for one thing, where is the abductor now? If it’s his magic that knocked you out, surely he would have finished what he had started and,” he looked uncomfortable, “you.”

Kíli nodded slowly. “You’re right. So someone on our side must have defeated the kidnapper.”

The unasked question lingered on both of their minds: who did it?

“It must have been Professor Bilbo,” Fíli finally said. “Who else could have done it?”

Kíli, however, was not so sure. “I dunno. I don’t think Professor Bilbo’s that powerful of a wizard. I mean, he’s a dab hand at Herbology and everything but pure magic wise, I’d pick Professor Thorin and Dwalin over him any day.”

“Who else then?” Fíli’s question was undoubtedly fair. “If your recovered memory is correct, Legolas was out the whole time so it couldn’t have been him. This leaves us only Bolg.”

This sounded even more ludicrous. Bolg, who never even excelled in class, who bungled most of his O.W.L. practical exams, their saviour against some dark evil wizard? Yet parts of him, in the back of his mind, told him that he should not underestimate Bolg. Besides, if the magic that saved them was dark magic, it made sense that Bolg was the only one who knew how to cast the spell. Maybe that was why Bolg was still unconscious. It was not because he was hit by a dark spell. It was because he attempted an extremely advanced dark spell that was probably way beyond his magical abilities.

When Kíli explained this to Fíli, his friend looked thoughtful. “It certainly sounds plausible. If that’s the case, all of you owe your life to Bolg.”

To say that this notion did not sit well with Kíli was probably the understatement of the year, for which he blamed his own prejudice. How could he still hate Bolg if the Slytherin had saved their lives? Yet somehow, something felt wrong. There was also the question of Bilbo’s ring and the unsolved question of how they got into Barad-dûr, which certainly could not have been done with the help of Bolg. This was not, however, something he felt he should discuss with Fíli. It was, after all, not his secret to tell.

“Anyway,” Fíli finally said, “I hope Bolg recovers. It does look a bit worrying, doesn’t it, when Mister Oín can’t help him?”

For that, they all had to wait. In the meantime, the whole school was abuzz with gossip and speculations on exactly what had happened. Lindir had been nagging Kíli almost nonstop until Gimli got so fed up that he cursed Lindir’s hair green during lunch, much to the amusement of the entire school.

Other than Lindir, Kíli had taken to avoiding Thorin too. The astounding revelation that Thorin could very well be his One still refused to settle in completely for Kíli. How could it? Thankfully, Thorin seemed completely oblivious to this frightening truth. His attitude towards Kíli remained the same, warmer than his usual demeanour but strictly professional. There were no lingering glances, no knowing smiles, no longing looks, or anything of the sort that Kíli had learnt, quite painfully, to associate with unrequited love, not even the subtlest kind, no matter how hard Kíli looked. Was it possible that adults react differently to such matters? Yet Lady Galadriel and Professor Celeborn, the only adult couple he knew, had never disguised their genuine affection for each other even after so many years of marriage, despite their reserved nature. The only conclusion Kíli could draw was that Thorin was genuinely ignorant.

Had this happened to anyone else, they might have despaired at the possibility that their One might not discover their feelings. For Kíli, however, this was the perfect opportunity to bury his head in the sand. He never wanted to acknowledge this unfortunate mixup, for in his mind this was what the whole affair equated to. How convenient that the other party made it so easy for him! Now he could still enjoy the rest of the school year, free of exams and any other troubles, basked in Fíli’s attention and friendship.

“When do you reckon they’d send us the O.W.L. results?” Kíli asked lazily. It was a fine summer afternoon so they chose to spend it under the beech tree next to the Black Lake, playing Gobstones and other games.

Fíli shrugged. “I think it comes in the summer. Maybe a month into the summer holidays? They need to let us know well in advance so we know which classes we can take next year and buy the supplies accordingly.”

“I wish they could let us know sooner!” Ori said with a sigh. “Imagine all the stress we’ll feel over the holidays.”

Fíli smiled. “You’ll be fine, Ori. I’m sure your results will be perfect. You’ve worked so hard for it!”

Ori pouted. “You never know! I mean, aren’t you nervous?”

To Kíli’s surprise, Fíli’s smile was genuinely carefree. “Not as much as I used to. I realised that there are more important things than exam results. Besides, I reckon I did okay.”

Kíli’s witty remark on Fíli’s changed attitude was lost on his tongue when he caught sight of two figures walking leisurely towards the Black Lake. It was the most unlikely couple yet they both seemed rather at ease with each other, conversing animatedly.

“Good gracious!” Ori had spotted the pair too. “Is that Gimli and Legolas?”

Indeed it was. The tall graceful Elf and the stout laughing Dwarf looked quite a picture until they spotted the trio.

“Ah…” Gimli’s eloquent utterance was not lost on any of them.

“Hi Gim, hi Legolas.” Kíli could not help but grin at them. As unexpected as they might look, he had a feeling that this was going to happen eventually. “Enjoying ourselves, aren’t we?”

“Shut up, Durin!” Gimli growled while Kíli laughed. Next to Gimli, Legolas rolled his eyes, though good-naturedly.

“Hi, Kíli, Fíli, Ori.” He nodded at all of them. It was amazing how one’s expression could change one’s features so much. Gone were Legolas’s arrogant smirks and the forever creased eyebrows. Instead, he looked - well, it was hardly cheerful for he was still Legolas after all - friendly and less guarded.

“How are you? Are you feeling better now?” Fíli asked in genuine concern.

Legolas smiled. “I’m fine now, thanks to Mister Oín. Thanks for asking though.” He then motioned to Gimli, who had lost his speech momentarily it seemed, and they left without another word.

“Blimey,” Ori cried once they were out of earshot, “that was unexpected.”

“I think it’s wonderful that they’ve made up.” Fíli sounded genuinely happy. “I never understand the animosity between them. That’s the only good thing that came out of the whole fiasco.”

Everyone else fell silent. They were thinking about the same thing. A couple of days ago, Lindir, the gossip king of the school, told them that news came about Bolg.

“He just woke up this morning,” Lindir said as he sat down next to Kíli at breakfast. “Have you heard? The news just came from St. Mungos.”

“How’s he?”  
“Is he alright?”

Apart from Kíli, Gimli was the most eager to know. Kíli thought he knew why. Despite everything that they had said, Gimli still felt responsible for Legolas and Bolg’s disappearance.

Lindir sighed. “I don’t think so. Now, I can’t be 100% sure. Arwen did not treat him after all. She isn’t qualified for this kind of problem. But words have it that he has lost all his magical power.”

“What?”

“Yes.” Lindir nodded gravely. “It seems that the dark magic has drained him of all his magical power. He’s more or less a Squib now. The only thing they don’t know for sure is whether the condition is reversible. The professors are discussing it right now. It’s a new situation for them because it has never happened before.”

All the eyes turned towards the Staff table. Just like Lindir said, Gandalf and all the Heads of Houses were absent. Kíli wondered why they had not noticed it before.

“That’s… that’s…” Ori tried but failed. This was the worst nightmare of every single wizard, too horrifying to even contemplate.

“I know.” Even Lindir lost his usual jovialness. “This is not what I want to relay as my last piece of gossip.”

From the corner of his eye, Kíli could see the look on Gimli’s face, which was why he decided that a change of subject was in dire need. Grabbing the chance Lindir offered, Kíli went on, “So what's your plan after Hogwarts? The Ministry? St. Mungos? Quidditch?”

Lindir laughed. “Ministry? St. Mungos? You overestimate me, Kíli. Those places are for people like Arwen and Aragorn, not me.” He shrugged. “I haven’t finalised the plan but I’m planning to travel the world for a year, you know. To see different parts of the world and learn the local magic.”

This piqued everyone’s interest. Both Fíli and Ori looked as if they were ready to join Lindir the next minute. Even Gimli had forgotten, however temporarily, his guilt.

“That is bloody wicked!” Gimli said in awe. “Just imagine! Wow!”

“I’m glad you approve.” Lindir mock bowed. “I just need to persuade my parents and, well,” he grinned, “hopefully get some gold from them. But I’m determined to go with or without money. I can earn my galleons on my way.”

“Do you have any destinations in mind?” Fíli asked.

“Hmm, I think I’ll start in France and make my way east. I want to end my journey in China,” his face turned slightly pink, “you know, where Cho’s family’s from.”

The rest of them smiled knowingly. Lindir’s relationship with Cho had not been met with universal approval. While they were not the first cross-race couple, Aragorn and Arwen being the perfect example, Aragorn at least had some Elf blood in him and came from a most prominent Pureblood family of Men. Cho’s family, on the other hand, came from China, a foreign land where her ancestral bloodline could not be verified. It was only Lindir’s devotion to Cho that persuaded his family, albeit very reluctantly, to accept the Ravenclaw girl. Kíli, perhaps more than any of his other friends, was rooting for the couple ever since they got together.

“This is so sweet,” Ori said in a sigh, ever the romantic.

Lindir tried to look nonchalant. “Well, it’s going to be good fun. When I return after a year, Cho will graduate then and we can decide then what we’re going to do with our lives.”

Overall, one could not say this was an uneventful year like he had hoped, Kíli thought on their way back to King’s Cross Station, but it was certainly interesting. He had survived his O.W.L.s for one thing. It did present more questions than answers, which seemed like the theme of his time in the magical world. He could only imagine what was in store for him, now that he was fast approaching adulthood. Whatever lay ahead though, he knew he would take it with his head held high and Fíli by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive (didn't think I would be after the last chapter lol). I promise that there will be more in Year 6 that will eventually make everyone happy :)


End file.
